Five Nights of Christmas
by AlphaTheGriffin17
Summary: Synthetic Saga Special- The holiday season is here and it looks like the synthetics of Freddy's are spending it locked inside the restaurant. But their new night guard friend is having none of that and decides to show each of them a night they're never going to forget. A gift of freedom. AU fic, featuring human-like characters. Sequel to A Lot Can Happen in Five Nights.
1. Just Another Night

**Just Another Night**

Mike Schmidt fought back a yawn while he sat in the security office. He cycled idly through the cameras, only briefly staying on certain rooms while he checked on everyone. Bonnie sat in the dining room with her feet propped up on one of the tables. Chica was off doing something in the kitchen. Freddy was relaxing in his usual spot. Foxy was in Pirate's Cove, last he checked. Satisfied, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms, tempted to grab some shut eye.

It had been a long day for them all. A couple of birthdays had really taken it out of Mike and the synthetic beings he watched over. He'd been hired on for extra help to make sure everything was in order for a few hours doing the day. But those few hours had really taken it out of him so much, he'd just fallen straight to sleep until his shift started.

He had been a little surprised when he learned that the others could experience fatigue. But apparently, even they had their limits and liked to rest every once in a while, especially after a day like today. Hence, everyone was taking it easy tonight. Mike certainly wasn't complaining. Even after the two weeks he'd been working here, this job was still pretty tiring.

He whipped his phone with the intention of playing some Snake. He flicked on the cameras again. Pirate Cove's curtains were open. A quick look at the west hall camera showed Foxy striding towards the office.

"Ahoy there, Mike!" he greeted cheerily. "Permission ta step inside yer office, sir?"

Mike cocked an eyebrow. "I thought you were supposed to be a captain."

"Aye, I am lad but only of my ship," he corrected. "This here office be yer territory an' it's only proper for any good captain ta ask the permission-a the other 'fore steppin' foot in his cabin."

"I guess that makes sense," he shrugged. "Permission granted, Foxy."

"Thank ya, lad." Foxy stepped in and peered at the monitor. "All quiet on deck?"

"Seems like it," he nodded. "Everyone's pretty tuckered out from today and I don't blame them. You seem fairly chipper though."

"I've had over twenty years-a restin', Mike. I got energy ta spare," he replied. "Though I gotta say, me little mateys were fairly rowdy taday. Nothin' I can't handle."

"It was more than I could handle for the most part," said Mike. "I am not used to dealing with kids. Like, at all."

"Least you'll be gettin' experience, lad," noted Foxy. "Titles migh' be nice, but experience outranks everythin'."

"Wise words," he remarked. "You've settled back in fine?"

"Aye," nodded Foxy. "Like steppin' on the deck of a ship after years-a bein' in port. It's a rocky start at firs', but it all comes back ta ya. Seems I've missed a lot though."

"In what way?" asked Mike.

"Jus' some-a the things me little mateys come out with," he replied. "A fair few times, they ask me if I ever crossed blades with a Cap'n Jack Sparrah. Mus' be a pirate-a great infamy ta be known ta so many."

"Yeah, you could say that," chuckled Mike.

"An' new gadgets too," he continued. "I remember when they took photos wi' cameras. Now, they're takin' out these lil' black things ta do it. They stare at 'em so much, I'da thought they found some kinda treasure like the world has never seen."

"Technology of today, Foxy. Although I guess I'm a little bit behind too." He showed him his phone. "I just stick with this one. Can't really afford any newer models."

Foxy peered at it curiously. "So them strange things be phones? Not like any phone I've ever seen."

"I'll bet," said Mike. "Like I said, mine's a lot older, but you can do more with it than make calls. Like, mine's got a calculator, a calendar, a couple of games."

"Games?" Foxy shook his head. "How can ya play games on that dinky lil' device?"

"I'll show you." He opened up his games in the menu. "I don't really have a lot of choice. A soccer game, Tetris, Snake. Pretty basic."

"Now, tha' is a wonder," murmured Foxy.

Mike frowned at him. "Kind of weird how you're remarking on how wondrous a piece of technology is. You're way more advanced than this thing."

"Aye, I can appreciate other technology than meself, lad," reasoned Foxy. "Like how ye can appreciate other people. Now, how's about showin' Ol' Foxy how ya play on this here phone."

Mike pulled up Snake and let Foxy watch while he played. Though it was a simple game, he seemed fascinated nevertheless. He even asked to have a go and Mike let him, on the assurance that he would be careful with it. While he busied himself with the game, Mike left him to it and decided to make a round of the building, though not really for security reasons.

Leaving the office, Mike headed towards the dining area. There, he found Bonnie, her feet lazily planted on the table while she cradled her guitar like a child. She glanced up at his entrance and smiled.

"Eh, what's up doc?" she greeted with an affected voice.

"Hunting wabbit," returned Mike. "You look relaxed."

"Hey, I earned it," she insisted. "I haven't been worked like that for a long while."

"You must have had your fair share of birthday parties," said Mike.

She snickered. "Oh yeah, sure. Just call me the Birthday Queen, purveyor of all things celebratory and involving cake."

"And lady of sarcasm?" quipped Mike.

"My best title," she affirmed. "Point is, yes I have seen plenty of birthday bashes. But that one was more like a birthday bash, crash and smash at the same time."

Mike shrugged. "I guess this place has started to get its popularity back. With Foxy and you guys walking around again, maybe more people are starting to come back."

"Looks that way." She adjusted the string and looked at him. "You know, this is all your fault."

"My fault?" Mike repeated.

"Sure is," she said. "If you hadn't gone and given Foxy his hope back, we wouldn't have decided that step off stage as part of giving Freddy's a better name and I'd still be having a cushy gig and joints that don't feel like they're gonna fall off me any second."

As if on cue, her right arm completely disconnected and fell to the ground. Bonnie looked down at it and gestured at it to Mike. He glanced at the arm, then back at her.

"You need a hand?" he asked.

"Oh, shut up, Schmidt." She reattached her limb and flexed it. "Detachable joints. Great for maintenance upkeep and comedic timing."

"My sides are splitting," he remarked. "Hey, I was wondering about that. Can you move them around if they're not connected?"

"You mean like this?" She yanked off her right hand and placed it on the table. Its fingers scuttling like spiders legs, it scurried around in a circuit before springing back on to Bonnie's wrist. "Addams family ain't got nothing on me, Mikey."

"No kidding," he murmured. Just when he thought he knew everything about these guys.

"I can't do it forever, though," she explained. "I can maintain the connection to a limb for a couple of minutes, but that's it. Then it's just like what would happen if I cut your hand off. Only less messy."

"Sorry if I'm not enthusiastic to try and for ruining your cushy gig."

"Yeah, well you should be."

"On which count?"

"Both of them. Big baby, not letting me cut your hand off and working this poor bunny to death." A sincere smile appeared on her face. "Seriously though, thanks Mikey. It's cool seeing this place look full again."

"And having Foxy back?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah, that too. But hey, don't let this go to your head, okay? Can't have your ego outgrowing mine."

"Wouldn't want that," laughed Mike. He started toward the kitchen. "See you around, Bonnie."

"Later rather than sooner," she called.

Mike could barely keep the smile off his face. Whoever thought that rabbits were timid, shy creatures had obviously never spent five minutes with Bonnie Bunny. He approached the kitchen door and remembering his manners, knocked.

"Come in," came Chica's voice. She looked up from the chopping board and beamed at his arrival. "Well, if it isn't my favourite night watchman."

"I'm the only night watchman, Chica," he reminded.

"All the more reason you're my favourite," she returned. "What can I do for you, Mike?"

"Just checking up on everyone," he answered. "I thought you'd be taking it easy after today."

"I will in a bit," she said. "I want to have at least one pizza made for tomorrow. Besides, I haven't made one like this for a while."

As Mike approached, he caught a familiar sweet smell. "Is that… chocolate?"

"It is," she affirmed. "Chica's Chocolate Supreme. Pizza base with chocolate sauce, with smarties and chocolate buttons as topping and white chocolate sprinkles on top."

Mike consciously knew he was drooling at the sight.

"Will you marry me?" he moaned.

She giggled and blushed heavily. "Goodness. So forward, Mr Schmidt. At least buy me flowers first."

"S-sorry." Now, it was his turn to blush. "That kind of slipped out…"

"I know," she smiled. "I'll just act you complimented me on my cooking like a normal person would."

"I should have done," he said quickly, wiping the drool away. "You're really an amazing chef, Chica."

"Thank you, Mike." Her face glowed, as did her smile. "That's so sweet of you."

"Well, I-I mean it."

"Aww. Ah buh buh!" She slapped his hand away which had been edging toward the chocolate wonder. "Fingers off, mister."

"S-sorry!" he stammered. He hadn't even noticed it was happening. "Not even… one slice?"

"Sorry, Mike," she said sympathetically. "But I can't have it one slice short. That wouldn't be fair on the children, would it?"

Mike sighed. "I guess. I hope I get to try it someday, though."

"If you're lucky and I'm feeling nice."

"You're always nice." That earned another blush and a smile. "So, what's prompted you to make this?"

"Call it my way of celebrating," she replied, boxing the pizza. "With the restaurant on the rise again, I thought this would make a special treat for the next birthday party we have. I asked Aaron to get me the ingredients and he was happy to."

"Did you promise him a slice if he did?" teased Mike.

"Oh hush you. I told you, you're not getting a slice today."

He shrugged. "Can you blame me for trying?"

"No, I suppose not." She flinched as she yanked a feather out, stuck in the box and left a note on it saying 'for birthdays'. "There we go and I better not catch you trying to sneak a piece, Mike."

"I'll try my best to resist," he promised. "But I can't help it your cooking's so good."

"Oh stop it or I might actually give in and let you have one," she blushed. "I'm sure your mother made you some good meals too."

"Actually, my dad does most of the cooking in our house," he corrected. "I guess he learned a few things from you."

"So he was paying attention in those cooking lessons I gave him," she murmured. "How are they, anyway?"

"Fine," said Mike stiffly. "Just fine."

"Are you sure?" Concern crossed her features. "Mike, is there something wrong?"

"It's nothing."

"But-"

"Chica, no offence but… I'd prefer to deal with it myself," he replied.

"O-oh." She looked hurt. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry…"

"It's okay," he said quickly, feeling guilty. "I appreciate you asking but it's not your problem. It's fine, really."

"If you say so," she said unsurely. "But don't be afraid to ask us for help if you need it, Mike. We're your friends and we're here for you, if need us."

"Thanks," he said sincerely. "Have a good night, Chica."

"You too, Mike." She sounded almost forlorn as he left.

He wondered for a moment if he shouldn't talk to her. But he put it out of his mind and made his way to the open backstage door. He knocked on it to get Freddy's attention, who looked up from his ponderings.

"Good evenin' to you, Mike," he greeted. "Please, come in. Have a seat."

"Evening, Fred." He sat opposite the lead singer. "Everything okay here?"

"Sure is," he said. "Just enjoyin' a little peace and quiet after today's little ruckus. I'm gettin' too old for this sort of thing."

"Hope not or else I'm out of a job," joked Mike. "What would they call this place without you leading the band?"

"Hm. You know, that's a mighty fine question," he remarked. "Lemme see… Bonnie's House of Rock? Chica's Pizza Coop? Port Foxy?"

"You came up with those pretty quickly," Mike noted.

"My mind tends to wander in odd places when I just sit and think," shrugged Freddy. "Sometimes it's contemplating philosophical conundrums like the nature of our existence and our place in this world. Others, it's things like how Chica always manages to get the perfect texture for her cheese or what Foxy would do if he were really given a ship."

"The most important questions," agreed Mike with a laugh.

"But of course." He chuckled. "Forgive this old bear for ramblin' on, Mike."

"It's fine," said Mike. "Hey Fred, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot, son."

"Have you guys ever been outside? I mean, have you ever left the restaurant?" he clarified.

"Hmm." Freddy shook his head sadly. "Afraid not, son. With our unique nature and the position that we're in, it's simply too risky to step outside those doors."

"But don't you wish you could?" he asked. "See what it's like outside the restaurant? Do some stuff you've maybe always wanted to do?"

Freddy was silent for a while. "There's some things, I'm sure. But I'm afraid I don't see it happenin' anytime soon. This place is our home and our refuge. Like it or not, it's always going to be."

"If you say so," murmured Mike.

Freddy smiled. "I appreciate what you're gettin' at and what you want, Mike. But you've done us a great service already. You've helped give this place new life, returned our prodigal fox and give us a fine new friend. We're indebted to you for that and you don't owe us anythin'."

Though Mike nodded, he didn't quite agree. They'd given him a lot too. A job that was steady and paid a decent amount, good friends and a measure of fulfilment like he'd never felt before. He wanted to go extra to pay them back for that too, especially considering the time of year.

December was rolling around and Christmas was coming. Mr Johnson had talked about decorating the place over the weekend for the last round of parties before they closed for the season. He wasn't sure about the synth's feelings about the holiday, but Mike wanted to give them something really special and this was something he'd been thinking about for a while.

Upon hearing Freddy's tone, he was now convinced. One way or another, he was going to show them what it was like beyond the walls they were confined inside. In the most cheesy sense possible, he knew what he was going to give them this year: a taste of freedom.

* * *

><p>Hey there again folks and welcome back to Alpha's Anthology of Awesome!<p>

Now, with all the cries for a sequel of sorts and following from my promise, I couldn't let those cries go ignored and my promise dishonoured. So, my gift to you this Christmas is this little story. Now, I do mean little, only about four or five chapters long, but I hope it'll be a heart-warming one for the season.

So, in the reviews you leave, feel free to chuck out some ideas for what you'd like to see the gang do if they were to leave the restaurant with Mike and we'll see if we can't fit them in somewhere. Update as soon as I can and see if I can't get this done before Christmas.

Be strong, be swift, be just.


	2. A Party and a Surprise

**A Party and a Surprise**

Within a day, Freddy Fazbear's Pizza was decorated for Christmas. The front entrance was adorned with flashing fairy lights, as were the doorways around the restaurant. The reception desk had a small tree on the desk, a large one with presents under it in the corner and the receptionist, Susie, even wore a Santa hat.

Mike liked Susie. Ever since he'd started working at Freddy's and it had become clear he was there to stay, the other employees had started to warm to him. Susie was one of the first, a very bubbly and bright young woman with long brown hair and a cheery smile. She'd managed to catch Mike on his way in starting his shift and given him a hug and a 'welcome to the family!'

She waved to Mike when he walked into the restaurant.

"Hi Mike!" she greeted happily. "Little early for your shift, aren't you?"

"I hadn't noticed," he smiled. "Actually, I'm just here to see Mr Johnson. I need to talk to him about something."

"Hope it's nothing bad," she sang. "Ooh, go see the band while you're here! Everybody looks so adorable!"

"I'll have a look," he said. "Have a good day, Susie."

"You too, Bats and merry-not-quite-but-in-twenty-four-days-it-will-be-Christmas!" she wished.

"Back at you!" he called and walked into the main body of the restaurant.

The dining area looked just as festive. Two large trees shone with bright lights in the farthest corners. In place of the party hats for the kids were Santa hats and reindeer horns. The menus advertised special Christmas deals and Christmas themed birthday parties. The stage was hung with stars and candy canes. Foxy's stage had fairy lights on the port and tinsel on his ship.

Even the synths in their suits were dressed for the season. Freddy wore a big red coat, a big bushy white beard and a Santa hat in place of his top hat. Bonnie and Chica were dressed like elves with green tunics and matching ears. Foxy wore deer antlers and had a big shiny red nose. The four of them were off the stage and walking around for the party.

"Ho ho ho!" chortled Freddy. "Hey kids! Freddy Santa-bear is here and if you're all very good, he might just have a present for you!"

"And I've baked some special cookies for everyone and hidden them all around the restaurant," said Chica. "If you boys and girls can find them, you get to eat them."

"Anyone who wants their Christmas spirit to get funky, just come to me and I'll pump up the jam!" promised Bonnie, strumming her guitar.

"Aye an' we'll see how fast yer little legs are, me mateys an' see if ye can catch me!" laughed Foxy. "Succeed an' I migh' tell ya the story-a how I saved Christmas!"

"Yeah, right! And my guitar strings are made of liquorice!" dismissed Bonnie.

"Don't make me come over there an' give ye a red nose, lass!" threatened Foxy.

"Now, now, settle down you two," berated Chica gently. "We need to set a good example for everyone."

"Yeah! We can't have any fighting at Christmas," added Freddy. "This is a time of good will and joy."

"Okay, okay, we won't fight. Until everyone's gone." Mike could hear Bonnie's smirk under her suit.

The children laughed at the band's antics and hurried to play with them. Mike smiled too and slipped away upstairs so they could work. He went up to Mr Johnson's office, giving his secretary Mel a polite smile as he passed. She barely looked up from her work.

He knocked and waited until the jovial smile of the restaurant's manager met him.

"Mike, my lad! Good to see you! Come in, come in," he offered and let Mike take a seat. "Now, what can I do for you? All quiet on the western front, I hope?"

"Everything's fine with my shift, sir," assured Mike. "How are things here?"

"Banging, lad!" he replied. "Ever since Foxy became a hit again, we've started to pick ourselves up. There's still a bit to be done, but it looks like we can make some much needed renovations and repairs and our nights won't involve having to conserve power anymore."

"That's good news, sir," nodded Mike. "I'll still try to conserve power anyway."

"Every little helps. Thanks, lad." He sat back in his chair. "But I don't think you came here to discuss quarterly returns with me, would I be right?"

"Um, yes sir." Mike shifted in his seat. "I um… I had a request I wanted to make. About Freddy and the others."

"And that would be?"

"I um… I uh…" Mike took a deep breath. "I want to… to take them o-o-outside."

Mr Johnson regarded him for a long while. Mike could feel sweat beads trickle down the back of his neck and his leg twitched nervously.

"Outside?" he repeated. "As in outside the restaurant?"

"Y-Yes sir," nodded Mike.

"Hmm." He frowned and leaned forward. "And what's made you ask for this, Mike?"

"J-Just that it's Chr-Christmas, sir," he stammered. "I… I think they'd l-like the chance to see o-o-outside the restaurant, s-s-sir."

"I see." He stared right at Mike. "You know I don't keep them here because I want to. I keep them here because it's to keep them safe. Like their father wanted me to. It's for their own good."

"I-I know, sir," said Mike quickly. "B-B-But… with all due r-r-respect… didn't he want them t-t-to live l-like they were people? W-Wouldn't he have w-w-wanted them to h-have some… freedom?"

Again, Mr Johnson considered Mike's words carefully. Mike sat completely rigid in his seat, hoping that his boss would see his point. He was as fond of the synths as Mike was and Mike respected him greatly. As much as he wanted to do this for them, he wanted to get Mr Johnson's permission and not go behind his back.

Mike's hope sparked when he saw Mr Johnson smile and nod absently.

"You make a fair point, lad," he murmured. "He wouldn't have wanted them hidden away forever. Very well, Mike. If you want to take them out, you can."

Mike broke out in a grin. "Oh, thank you, sir!"

"But I'll have some conditions for this, lad," he added. "First of all, you need to stay with them at all times. Don't let them out of your sight, not for a second."

"Yes, sir. Of course," said Mike at once.

"Second, take steps to camouflage or hide their animal parts. Shouldn't be too hard, have them wear hats and coats. This time of year, it won't look too suspicious. I'll send someone out to buy some and have them ready for your shift tonight. Third, only have one at a time each night. I'll let you decide who, but I don't want too much attention drawn to this. And make sure they're back before your shift ends."

"Yes, sir," nodded Mike. "Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of, other than this." He smiled again. "Make sure you show them a good time, you hear?"

"I intend to, sir," said Mike sincerely. "Thank you, sir."

"My pleasure, lad. Now, you go home and get yourself some sleep. I have a feeling you'll be needing it tonight," he advised with a twinkle in his eye.

Mike got up to leave, waved a cheery goodbye to Susie on his way out and made his way home. He couldn't wait to tell them.

* * *

><p>He arrived five minutes early for his shift. This wasn't anything unusual. He liked getting here early and so did the others. Once Mike locked the door, they were already climbing out of their suits while he made his way to his office.<p>

When he arrived, he found it had been decorated too. Mistletoe wrapped in red bows hung from the door way and candy cane chains lined the ceiling. Along with those were some gift wrapped presents. They were coloured for each of the synths. Yellow for Chica, purple for Bonnie, brown for Freddy and red for Foxy. Mike could imagine the odd expression someone would have made if they'd been told who they were for.

He came back out to the dining room and was surprised to see that there was no sign of the synths. Their suits were empty, but their occupants were nowhere to be found. Foxy's curtains were shut and he could make out something rustling behind them. Mike immediately became wary. Were Bonnie and Foxy planning some kind of prank?

Though he wasn't sure what good it might do, he started to grab his torch. He almost dropped it when a deep laugh filled his ears.

"Ho ho ho!" The backstage door burst open and out came Freddy, still dressed as Santa. "Merry Christmas, Michael!"

From the kitchen emerged Chica, wearing a Christmas-themed version of her dress with red velvet and a white fluffy hemline. Foxy yanked away his curtains, wearing a hat adorned with tinsel and decorated with a smiley face and cross candy canes. He jumped when Bonnie slapped him on the back, coming from the supply closet and wearing a pair of stars on the ends of her ears.

"Seasons greetin's ta ya, laddie!" roared Foxy. "How do ye like me Christmas hat?"

"It's… festive," said Mike.

"And you look like a dork," sniggered Bonnie.

"Aye an' will ye be helpin' dear ol' Saint Nick this year, lil' elf?" retorted Foxy. "Shall I get ye one-a them hats wi' a lil' bell on the end fer ya ta- OOF!"

His teasing was brought to an end when Bonnie strode up and smacked him around the back of the head.

"Hey Foxy, look at that," said Bonnie in a falsely sweet voice. "It looks like everyone's gone and you know what that means."

She grabbed him in a headlock and rubbed her knuckles against his head while Foxy tried to wriggle free, to no avail. Until Freddy stepped between them and yanked them up by the scruffs of their necks.

"That's enough, you two," he chastised and dropped them unceremoniously. "Act your ages."

"Wha' age be tha' then?" asked Foxy. "If ye be talkin' in mental terms, I'd say we be behavin' appropriately."

"Yeah, it's cool, Fred," dismissed Bonnie. "We're only messing."

"Quite honestly, I sometimes get confused as to whom the real children here are," said Freddy, though it was with a smile.

Mike just watched on, until a polite coughing got his attention. Chica stood before him, shuffling nervously on her feet.

"Hey, Mike," she murmured. "Do you um, like my dress? I-I keep this one for the season and uh, thought I'd show you it."

"It's… really nice," replied Mike, feeling a blush. "You look um, lovely, Chica."

"Really?" She beamed. "Thank you, Mike. I'm glad you like it."

"Um, yeah. I do. Really."

An awkward silence fell for a few seconds until Foxy clapped him on the back.

"Righ' then, lad, I hope ye are ready fer an adventure, 'cause you'll be havin' one tonight!" he declared proudly.

Foxy wasn't joking. It turned out that along with their outfits, the synths had prepared something of a party for him. Their reasoning was they probably wouldn't see him at Christmas and wanted to celebrate it early. Mike certainly didn't object.

With the fact that power was no longer as limited, they played a round of their special game of trying to get into Mike's office. It ended with Foxy managing to sprint inside. However, this time it was with a twist. After they got in the first time, Bonnie marched him and jerked her thumb to the door.

"Alright Mikey, up and out. I'm taking control," she said.

"Um, what?"

"Isn't in obvious? I'm gonna be sitting in here and you're gonna take my place with this lot. And don't even think of touching my guitar, you hear?"

"Uh, I don't know," murmured Mike.

"Come on, lad! Where's yer sense of adventure?" asked Foxy. "Ain't ya wandered what it'd be like ta be on the other end?"

Mike couldn't deny that he was a little curious, so he followed the others out of the office and joined Chica and Freddy on stage while Foxy slipped back behind his curtain. The little light on the camera watching the stage told them Bonnie was watching them from it. He could just picture her reclining in his chair, lazily watching the screens.

When the camera beeped off, Mike made a move and dived behind the closest table. He peered up over the top, squinting to see in the dimly lit dining room. The camera beeped on and he ducked back under, faintly listening to it whirr.

A clatter nearby indicated Chica had tried to mirror him and had bumped into the table. He saw her fumble and murmur an apology. He took a chance and dashed to the backstage room, feeling like Solid Snake sneaking around Shadow Moses. An empty cardboard box to hide in wouldn't go amiss right now.

He crawled under the table, seeing the legs of Arnie the Endoskeleton dangling over the edge. He peeped out and made sure the camera saw him, then stood up for a bit. His plan was to make Bonnie feel like she knew where he was. They always had to freeze if they were in sight of a camera, except for Foxy when he sprinted.

He did so and waved up at it when it beeped on. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chica make for the bathrooms while Freddy watched from the stage, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He waited a few seconds until the camera went off again and hurried back into the dining area.

When he crouched behind the table, he glanced at Freddy, who gave him an approving nod. Mike heard the curtains of Pirate Cove rustle a bit and saw Foxy peering out. He winked at Mike and his eyes flickered to the west hall. Mike made a break for it and stood at the end. The office was directly ahead and the camera at the end of the hall had flicked on.

Mike stood stock still while it watched him. He looked at the supply closet door and saw it ajar. He tensed. The camera turned off. Mike dashed inside. Something metal rattled above him and he looked up just in time to see a bucket of water land on his head and get him soaking wet.

Bonnie's guffaws echoed down the hall. "Get my little present, Mikey?"

Mike could hear Foxy cackling too while he slowly pulled the bucket off his head. He simmered silently, thinking of how best to get his own back on Bonnie… until he heard her again.

"Aw, come on!" she cried. "When did you get here?!"

"When you were too busy watching poor Mike get soaked to pay me any attention," answered a triumphant Chica. "You should keep a better eye out, Bonnie."

Mike came out of the closet and found Bonnie looking very disgruntled and Chica with her hands on her hips. Despite being dripping wet, Mike smiled smugly at Bonnie who stuck her tongue out and folded her arms while grumbling.

They decided to call an end to the game there for now and Chica went for something to help Mike dry. Since there were no towels, she used one of her clean aprons which she didn't mind. She also went and placed a large pizza in the oven for them. They were all enjoying their feast together, laughing and joking all the while.

After drying off and feeling better about the prank after being well fed, Mike went to his office and got the presents he had stashed away for them.

"Here you are, guys." He handed them around. "These are yours."

"Why, Mike. This is very thoughtful of you," said Freddy. "Thank you for this."

"Yes, this is so nice of you. Aw!" Chica beamed while she opened her. "Oh, a new bobble hat and a red coat. Mike, these are wonderful!"

"Aye, a fine piece-a headwear be this!" declared Foxy, taking out his maroon waist-length coat and fedora hat. "It even fits over me ears."

"Yeah, this headband's nice and this jacket too," said Bonnie. "Thanks, Mikey. This is pretty cool."

"There's a reason for these," said Mike. ""You'll need them for where you're going."

"Goin'?" Freddy looked up from examining his new blazer and top hat. "I'm afraid I don't understand, son."

"Well, I talked with Mr Johnson," began Mike, his smile growing, "and he said that as long as we abide by certain rules, for four nights this week, I'll be taking you guys to see the town and anywhere else we have the time to visit."

The synths were stunned at this announcement. After a long moment, Foxy spoke up.

"Ya mean… we be… leavin' the restaurant?"

"One at a time across the four nights, yeah," explained Mike. "Mr Johnson said he doesn't want to be drawing too much attention."

"Yo-ho-ho an' a bottle-a rum!" cheered Foxy. "Now, there's a chance-a some real adventure if I ever did hear one!"

"Heck yeah it is!" agreed Bonnie. "This is gonna be so awesome!"

"Out there… in the world… with all of those people…" Chica looked as if she might faint. "Oh my goodness…"

"It's fine, Chica," comforted Mike. "You guys won't be on your own. Part of the rules is that I'm not allowed to leave you on your own."

"Take all the fun out of it," remarked Bonnie.

"So… you'll be with us?" asked Chica.

"Every step," answered Mike.

She smiled gratefully. "That makes me feel better. Thank you, Mike."

"Thank you from all of us," added Freddy. "This is a fine thing you're doin' for us, son."

"It's the least I can do," insisted Mike. "Now, who's going to be coming tomorrow?"

"Well then Mike, it's your decision," said Freddy. "Which of us gets to have their night out first?"

* * *

><p>Last chance for suggestions regarding individual activities for the synths.<p> 


	3. Bonnie Bunny vs the World

**Bonnie Bunny vs the World**

Because she had been the first to meet him when he'd started working at Freddy's, Mike felt it fitting to take Bonnie out first the following night. It would have been easy to leave her for last after the bucket incident, but Mike decided to rise above it. After all, he worked with these guys technically. He'd just have to get used to it.

He waited for her outside the restaurant, listening to her receiving farewells and wishes of good luck from the others. She came out zipping up her new jacket and tying up the headband.

"How is it?" She turned her back to him. "My tail covered by this thing?"

Mike checked. "Yep, can't see it at all."

"Good. Then stop staring at my butt, perv," she teased.

"You were the one who asked."

"And you're the one still looking." She turned back around, still fiddling with the headband. "So, explain again how this thing is meant to help cover for my ears?"

"Well, Mr Johnson said he couldn't think of any kind of hat you could wear that wouldn't make your ears feel like they were being squashed," explained Mike. "So, he got you this so we can pass them off as just being part of the headband. Make it like you're on your way to a Christmas party or something."

"I guess that works," she shrugged. "Ah well. As long as I can be outta here for a bit, I'm fine. Alrighty Mikey, let's get going."

She set off at a confident stride and Mike had to walk quickly to catch up with her. Then, she stopped walking.

"Yeah, I just realised I have no idea where we're going," she admitted.

"Remembered who's in charge here then?" remarked Mike. "Just follow me, I know exactly where to take you."

"Sweet." She fell in even step next to Mike. "I'll be honest, I'm cool with wherever we go."

"You're glad to be out of the restaurant for a bit then?" asked Mike.

"You kidding? Course I am! I mean, don't get me wrong, it's our home and it's not too bad, I guess," she said quickly. "But when you spend twenty years in one place, it doesn't kill to imagine a change of scenery once in a while."

"I understand that," said Mike. "I would have thought you at least would have tried to sneak out at least once."

Bonnie gasped. "Mikey, what on earth do you take me for? I'm a good girl and I always follow the rules."

"Oh yes, of course," agreed Mike insincerely. "I don't know how I could even begin to think such a thing. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you should be," she huffed. "Although, while we're talking, there was one time I tried. This was back in my younger days, you understand. Before I became more mature and responsible like I am today, obviously."

"Obviously," repeated Mike. "What happened then?"

"Well, this is back when your old man was watching the joint," she began. "See, he was messing around with Foxy sword fighting or something and I just decided to wander by his office. I sat in the chair, messed around with the cameras, made my voice sound weird by speaking into the fan. Then I saw he'd left the keys dangling on a hook next to the door. They were just… there. Like they were begging to be taken. So, I did."

Mike stared at her. "I'll bet that went down well."

"Like sandpaper soup," she said. "While I was trying to figure out which key went in the front door, Davey decided to come back and see how much fun I was having in the office. I'd just managed to find the right one and turn it in the lock when I was caught and yanked back by Freddy. Oh man, I don't think I'd ever seen him as angry as he was then. Chica was all flustered and scared I'd tried it. Foxy was all amazed and said I had more adventure in my heart than he did or something like that. Davey though… your dad just kinda gave me this sad smile and said he'd have to keep a better eye on his keys from now on."

Mike noticed the regretful tone her voice had taken. "Doesn't sound like it was that bad."

"Honestly, it was," she sighed. "The worst part wasn't that Freddy was mad at me or that I was made to clean the restaurant for a full week after that. It was that Davey went outta his way to watch me closely, that he didn't let me in the office on my own anymore and that he kept his keys fixed to his belt. He never raised his voice or shouted or even really talked about it, but I felt like I'd betrayed his trust. And… that felt really crappy. As much as I wanted to, I never tried getting outside again after that."

"My dad's not really one to hold a grudge." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure he would be okay with this by now."

"Yeah, maybe. Still, I guess it could have been worse," she shrugged. "Could you imagine if Foxy got out if he'd found those keys?"

Mike laughed. "That would be something to see. And hey, look around. You're outside now and you didn't need to steal my keys. That's something, isn't it?"

"Yeah… yeah, I am." It was like the realisation had just hit her and her face broke out in a grin. "I'm out. I'm really, _really_ out. Mikey, am I… am I dreaming?"

"I didn't know you could, but yes," nodded Mike, smiling too. "Yes, you are, Bonnie.

"I'm outside! I'M OUTSIDE!" she cheered. "I'm actually outside!"

A window snapped open from one of the upstairs buildings and a middle aged man in his pyjamas stuck his head out.

"And some of us are actually inside and trying to sleep!" he shouted back. "Keep it down out there!"

The window snapped shut again, leaving Mike bewildered and Bonnie annoyed.

"Bah humbug to you too, buddy!" she yelled. "Well, that's killed my mood."

"I'll see if I can't get it back then. We've still got a way to go."

"Hold on," she said, raising a hand. "There's just something I wanna do first."

She looked up and down the street. It was completely deserted. She grinned again, bent her legs and leaped about thirty feet into the air.

"WOO YEAH!" Mike jumped back when she landed deftly on the ground, still grinning. "I've always wanted to do that!"

"Without a ceiling to crash into, right?" noted Mike.

"Yeah, without a-" She stopped and glared at Mike. "Let's just go."

Mike laughed while she stalked off. She stopped when she remembered again that she didn't know where she was going, waited for Mike and they set off again.

Her sulking didn't last long though. After a few minutes, she walked with a new spring in her step and a smile on her face. It only made Mike feel even more assured that this had been the right choice.

"Ooh, this place is having a live band playing!" She pointed at the poster advertised on a basement bar. "Come on, let's go and check it out!"

Mike wasn't surprised it appealed to her and he could hear the thrums of an electric guitar, the beat of drums and the clash of symbols and someone singing Welcome To The Jungle by Guns 'N Roses. It definitely seemed like Bonnie's scene and he was almost sad to have to decline it.

"We'll see if we have time on the way back, but that's not where I want to take you tonight," said Mike. "Come on, it isn't far from here."

Bonnie looked disappointed and sighed. "Okay, fine. Let's see what you have in store then."

They walked on. Mike had made sure to think hard on what each of them would enjoy seeing on their nights out and he felt he had found the right place for Bonnie. At least after stumbling across that live band place, he hoped she would. It was about forty-five minutes on foot.

The building was in sight when they rounded the corner. It wasn't difficult to miss, being brightly lit with the muffled sound of techno thumped through the walls and with a long queue of people behind a red cord line outside. Many were shivering from the cold. The name Noir shone in neon lights above the red doors, where a burly man in a suit holding a clipboard stood.

"Okay, I'll bite," said Bonnie as they approached. "What is this place?"

"It's a local disco," answered Mike. "I thought it might be to your taste. I got our names on the guest list so we don't have to stand in line."

"Sweet!" Bonnie smirked at the waiting people she passed. "Alright, let's have a looksee then."

"Let's." Mike approached the bouncer. "Mike Schmidt, plus one."

The bouncer checked the list and nodded them to the door. Mike thanked him and Bonnie followed him inside.

The sound of thumping techno hit them as soon as they stepped through the doors. The place was bigger than the outside led to believe, but Mike refused to quote that out loud. A large space was cleared in the centre for a raised dance floor, surrounded by four circular columns. It was lit from beneath and changed colours every so often, further brightened by the disco lights that shone from above. Most people were congregated in the centre, gyrating and moving to the beat.

Bonnie looked about the place with a curious eye, though she was evidently impressed. Mike felt a bit of relief. He wasn't big on places like this, but he'd said he'd take them on a night out and that was what he'd do. If Bonnie liked this place, he'd tolerate it for her.

They walked down the white staircase and made their way to the bar off to the left of the dance floor. Mike, who wasn't a big drinker, ordered a diet coke and asked Bonnie if she wanted anything.

"I'm good," she said. One of her ears twitched a bit. "What's with this music anyway?"

"It's called techno," answered Mike, yelling a bit over the noise. "It's made with computers, I think. I don't really know."

"It sounds… off," she decided. "Like, sure it's got rhythm and stuff, but it doesn't sound right. There's no instruments or anything that I know the sound of."

"It's not for everyone," shrugged Mike. "I'm not that big on it personally, but I don't mind it. It's got a beat and you can dance to it. That's all that matters in places like this."

"Alright. Speaking of dancing, I'm gonna try a bit myself," she said. "Coming, Mikey?"

"No thanks," replied Mike at once. "I'm not much of a dancer, really."

"Suit yourself and don't worry, I won't wander off," she promised. Then, she smirked. "Unless I find something better."

Mike watched from the bar while she made her way up on the dance floor. For a moment, she watched the people around her before she began to settle in to a movement of her own. It mirrored them in some ways, swaying her hips and waving her arms, but she made it seem more smooth and natural. She varied it a bit too, spinning on the spot and throwing in some more classic dance moves such as a perfect moonwalk and eerily good robot.

A few people seemed to notice her and made a little room for her. Some seemed to notice her ears, but no one really commented on it. Before long, she was dancing in the centre of the floor, with quite a few people cheering her on. She certainly looked like she was enjoying the attention and actually being free of her suit for once.

Mike laughed at the display, thankful that Bonnie was happy and that her confidence was driving her like this. He went to drink from his coke but stopped when he heard a derisive laugh. He looked to see the source was a young man with sleek black hair, a clean shaven face and a fancy suit. He was flanked by two of his similarly dressed friends.

"Wow, look at this fag," scoffed the man. "Sitting here and he can't even have a proper drink. Am I right, guys?"

"Yeah, you said it Reggie," agreed one of his cronies.

Mike felt his fear begin to rise and anxiety hit him while they laughed. This is why he hated places like this.

"L-Look guys," he stammered. "I-I-I don't want a-a-any trouble."

"Hey, and we're not giving you any," said Reggie. "We're just wondering what a little fag like you is doing in a place like this."

"I-I-I-I'm here w-w-with a-a-a f-f-f-friend so-"

"Oh, a friend, huh?" he interrupted. "They just as gay as you are or is that just you?"

"Isn't that my place to say?" asked a terse voice.

They all looked to see Bonnie had left the dance floor and was sauntering over to the bar with a confident stride.

"So, not as much of a fag as I thought," sneered Reggie. "Who's this, your girlfriend? What's with the ears, sweet cheeks?"

"Call it a fashion choice," replied Bonnie with a false smile. She looked to the barman. "Uh, what do you have that's colourful?"

"How does a Strawberry Sunrise sound, miss?" suggested the barman.

"Sure, why not? Oh, can I get one of those little umbrellas?" she added. "Thanks. So, these some new friends of yours, Mikey?"

"Um-"

"How swell." She held out a hand to Reggie. "Name's Bonnie, nice to meet you."

Reggie shook it and winced when she got his in a vice grip. Now that he was close, Mike could see that while her face looked calm and friendly, her crimson eyes were burning with barely suppressed anger.

"Whew. Some grip you got there, babe." He snorted when her drink came. "Little young to be drinking, aren't you?"

"I'm not big on the stuff." She picked it up and smirked. "But I do like the sound it makes when I pour it on garbage."

She raised the glass and poured the contents all over Reggie.

"AGH! My suit!" He glared at her. "You did that on purpose!"

"Wow, nothing gets past you, does it?" she remarked.

He shoved his finger in her face. "Listen here you little-AGH!"

He was cut off when she grabbed his finger and squeezed it hard. His two friends started forward, but she gave them a glare and they backed off.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I break your concentration?" she asked in a dangerous voice, still appearing calm. "Now, my turn. I don't like people who bother my friends. So, if you don't apologise to my friend right now and clear off, I might just decide to scream and tell a nice security guard that you tried to touch me. Hence, why I threw my drink at you."

"No way am I- AGH!"

"Or I could just squeeze tighter until all the little bones in that finger are powder," she threatened. "You want that?"

"Okay, okay!" he cringed. "Just lemme go!"

"Say sorry to my friend first!"

"I'm sorry!"

"I can't hear you! And say it to him, not me!"

"I'M SORRY!" Reggie cried to Mike. "Come on, lemme go!"

Bonnie obliged. "There. See, that wasn't too hard, was it?"

"There a problem here?" A burly security guard had come up.

"Oh, not at all, sir," said Bonnie sweetly. "I was just saying how sorry I was to this man for being so clumsy and spilling my drink all over him. Sorry about that."

Reggie glared at her and she raised an eyebrow at him. Reggie looked at the guard, then Mike, then Bonnie. Finally, he and his friends stalked off. The guard watched them go and nodded to Bonnie.

"You sure everything's alright, ma'am?" he asked. "We've had some trouble with him before."

"Oh, it's fine, really," she insisted. "Though would you mind keeping an eye on him for the night? I didn't like how he was acting around me and my friend."

"Sure thing." He gave her a small smile. "Have a good evening, ma'am, sir."

"You too! Well, that was a thing," she remarked. "You okay, Mikey?"

"Y-Yeah, fine," he said. "Thanks, Bonnie."

"Don't mention it. Hey, don't know about you but I'm suddenly not all keen on this place," she added. "How about we head to that live band thing we saw before?"

Mike nodded. "Sounds good to me."

They walked back through the crowds and out of the disco. Mike was glad to be back in the cold night air and to hear the thumping music grow quieter with each step they took.

He looked at Bonnie, who didn't appear to be in any way soured by the experience. He'd never had anyone stand up for him like that before and he was grateful to Bonnie for realising he was uncomfortable in their setting. Even if she pulled her pranks, he was glad to have a friend like her.

The basement gig was a modest affair. A lot less crowded, but also with a bar and a few tables set up around the room. The band, Smashing Apples they were called, was fairly decent too. They were mainly playing covers of songs as well as one or two original ones. But Bonnie seemed a lot happier.

"Oh yeah," she said, bobbing her head up and down. "Now, _this _is music."

"I agree. Oh and speaking of music." Mike dug into his coat pocket and brought out a gift-wrapped package. "Here, this is for you."

Bonnie looked curiously at it. When she opened it, she beamed.

"No way! A mix CD?"

"Yep," nodded Mike. "I went around and asked the others what kind of music you'd heard, then went and got this done for you. I have an old CD player I never sold, so I can bring that in and give it to you too."

"That's so cool!" She hugged him. "Thanks, Mike. This is a pretty awesome present. Perfect for me."

"You're welcome," he said sincerely. "Just hope Freddy isn't going to be disturbed by all the new noise."

"I will not apologise for art," she sniffed. "Okay, enough mushy stuff. I'm gonna go see that guitarist about his playing. I've got a few tips for him."

She rose from the table and walked over. Before long, the guy had let her use his guitar and play a couple of songs with the band. Mike just sat and watched, applauded when needed and thought about who was going to go next.


	4. What Should We Do With The Drunken Foxy?

**What Should We Do With The Drunken Foxy?**

Foxy was positively buzzing with excitement when Mike came to pick him up for his night out. No doubt Bonnie had told them all about her excursion the previous evening and combine that with Foxy's adventurous spirit, Mike wasn't completely surprised when Foxy was first out of the door and into the parking lot.

"A fine evenin' fer a voyage such as ours, Mike me lad!" He inhaled deeply. "Ah, smell that, Mike! That's the smell of adventure!"

"Or it's just a mix of car fumes and leaked oil," murmured Mike.

"Adventure!" insisted Foxy. "Righ', first mate Mike, where do our course be takin' us firs'?"

"The bus stop," deadpanned Mike. "It's this way, follow me."

"On we go then!" he declared. "Oh, they'll be tellin' tales-a this day fer generations ta come!"

"Foxy, we're going down the street," groaned Mike. "Hardly the stuff of legend."

"Yer pullin' me leg, lad!" dismissed Foxy. "This here is a day that would only ever be spoken of in whispers. Cap'n Foxy, steppin' out on the voyage of a lifetime. I migh' no' be the firs' of us ta leave our home, bu' I am privileged ta be the second. An' I'll come back with tales-a wonder ta be shared an' regaled long after I have gone from this world!"

"If you say so," muttered Mike. "Just try and calm down a bit, okay? I don't want you knocking off your hat or flashing your tail by mistake."

"Gotcha, lad," he winked. "I know when ta lay down low. I remember this one time I was sailin' in the east an' we came across a fierce band-a brigands…"

Mike zoned out at this point. Sadly, Foxy felt it was essential that he be able to tell his stories at any opportunity in order to stay in practice for when he'd have to do it for the kids. While it was fantastic the imagination and creativity the fox man had, once he started it was very hard to stop him. Sometimes, Mike felt even Foxy himself was convinced at the reality of his tales.

So, he let Foxy go on. In a way, it was only fair. After spending twenty years feeling sorry for himself, it was good of him to take some pride in his work again. Mike felt it was still rather fragile, since what he did was hardly something to get over easily. It was better to see him happy. Even if that did mean running his mouth.

They arrived at the bus stop on the corner and waited. Foxy had just gotten to the part where he'd sprung a surprise on the captain of the enemy ship after sneaking up in an empty barrel of rum when the bus arrived. He stopped and jumped at the sound of the bus, backing away slightly.

"By Blackbeard's beard, wha' manner-a beast be this?!" he cried.

"It's the bus, Foxy," replied Mike. "We have to ride on it to get where we're going."

Foxy watched it warily as it pulled up, flinched when the door opened. "Are ye sure this 'bus' is safe, Mike? I gotta feelin' in me bones…"

"Foxy, it's fine," he insisted. "Don't tell me you seriously don't know what a bus is?"

"Well, me lil' mateys have said somethin' on occasion ta be sure," he realised. "Well, I trust yer word an' theirs, Mike. But if anythin' does happen, you go on without me. I'll fend it off."

"Thanks. Now, hurry and get on."

The driver gave Foxy an odd look when he scurried onto the bus while Mike paid for their tickets. He still looked wary when Mike sat down with him.

"I think see now what this bus be like," he said. "It be like a ship, but fer land an' not the sea. An' a lot noisier."

"If that's how you want to see it," shrugged Mike. "Just sit still and wait until I say we're getting off."

"Yer in charge-a this venture, lad," said Foxy. "I'll trust your word. Where ye be takin' us anyway?"

"An area close to the docks," answered Mike. "There's a few late night attractions I thought you might want to see."

"The docks? Ya mean we be close ta the sea?" asked Foxy in wonder. "Mike, me lad, yer too good ta this ol' sea dog."

Mike just smiled and sat back in his seat. Really, it was a no brainer that he take Foxy to somewhere near the ocean. Despite all of his fantastic tales, Mike could tell for a fact that Foxy had never been anywhere near the sea in his life, much less on a ship. It was time he changed that.

The journey took about half an hour. The place they arrived at was, as Mike said, built with late night attractions in mind and was almost like a resort. There were movie theatres, video arcades, various types of restaurant, long haul hotels and all of it just about a five minute walk to the docks, made for sailors and tourists passing through. Very faintly, the sound of waves could be heard above the din.

Foxy was buzzing with excitement when they stepped off the bus and started towards it.

"Now, this is a port town if I ever did see one!" he declared, inhaling the salty scent deeply. "The sea's callin' ta me, Mike. I can feel it!"

"Hold it there, Foxy," urged Mike. "I'm saving the sea for last. Before then, there's a couple of places here I know you'd want to see."

One of those places was a nearby video arcade. Since Foxy had had so much fun playing on his phone, Mike wanted to show him what it was like playing on a full-sized arcade cabinet. There were very few kids at these late hours, but there were still a fair few customers playing some late-night video games.

Thankfully, Foxy wasn't as taken aback as he was with the bus.

"Aye, the ol' place used ta have a few arcade cabinets back in the day," recalled Foxy. "But we got rid-a the only three we had 'fore long when we couldn't afford maintenance an' upkeep on 'em, 'specially when the kids ended up shovin' pizza slices in the coin slots. They were fun though, back when…"

Foxy started to look forlorn and sad. Mike saw the danger signs and quickly stepped in.

"Well, there's a lot more here than three, Foxy," he said quickly. "Let's go find a good one. I got plenty of quarters for us to use."

"Aye, that sounds- blow me down!" Foxy dashed up to House of the Dead 3, staring at it in amazement. "This be a far cry from the old ones we had!"

"Oh yeah? Can you remember what they were?" asked Mike.

"Let me see…" Foxy frowned for a moment. "I believe they were Pac-Man, Space Invaders an' Dig Dug. Ooh, they were hours-a fun so long as ya had the coin, but these ones… those zombies look almost real!"

"Welcome to the age of 3D graphics," said Mike. "Wait, you know what a zombie is?"

"Mike, what kinda question is tha'?" scoffed Foxy. "A-course I know what a zombie is! Rottin', flesh-eatin' sacks-a meat beggin' ta be put down an' I have a hankerin' ta grant 'em that. Aye, like that!"

He was glaring fiercely at the zombies on the screen being blown away while the game ran in demo mode. Mike could tell what game Foxy wanted to play first and after all, this one was two player and Foxy had replaced his hook with an actual hand for the occasion. They didn't want to get arrested for carrying a potential weapon.

Mike inserted a couple of quarters into the game and picked up one of the infrared shotguns from its slot. He had to explain to Foxy how it worked, since the only guns he knew of were decades old. But he was itching to go and eagerly pointed the gun at the screen when the opening cutscene ended.

He was a little rusty at first. A couple of times, Foxy forgot how to reload. But before long, he was blowing off zombie's heads like nobody's business and really getting into it.

"Aye, eat tha' ya brainless cur!" he roared. "Go back ta hell an' tell 'em Foxy sent ya!"

They stopped playing after the zombie sloth proved to be too much for them, Foxy cursing the monster to the deepest darkest depths as they left. Afterward, Foxy had a go at the first Sonic the Hedgehog, boasting that he could probably sprint ten times as fast as the blue blur and grumbling that he didn't get a share of his golden treasure rings.

"Where in the name-a the seven seas is he keepin' 'em anyway?" he wondered. "The boy isn't even wearin' pants!"

A Guitar Hero game also got Foxy's attention, claiming that he would put Bonnie's guitar skills to shame. In the end, he was booed off stage because he kept missing most of the notes. He'd put it on hard mode because it was a challenge befitting him and the notes came too thick and fast for him to keep up.

"Arr, ta Davy Jones' locker with the lot-a ya!" he cursed, slamming the guitar in its slot.

"Temper, Foxy," urged Mike. "We break it, we buy it."

"Aye, aye, sorry." He growled faintly. "Guess I'll be leavin' the music ta Bonnie. Just glad she ain't here."

Deciding to let Foxy calm down a bit, Mike had a go at a Gran Turismo game with a seat and steering wheel. Foxy's mood was vastly improved when he was egging Mike on to victory, the fox man proving to be as good a spectator as he was a player.

"That's the way it's done, lad!" he cheered when Mike crossed the finish line first. "Ya see that, ya slugs?! Me boy's as swift as the winds an' light as air! Wha' chance did ye have?!"

Though he was a little embarrassed at the attention Foxy was drawing, Mike smiled anyway. They left it there, exiting on a high note rather than Foxy rage quitting. Aside from that, Mike checked his watch and hurried Foxy along to one of the movie theatres.

"What's the rush, lad?" asked Foxy. Mike stopped at the door and pointed at one of the posters for a movie that was showing tonight. Foxy grinned when he saw it. "'Pirates o' the Caribbean'. Now, yer speakin' me language lad!"

Mike grinned and brought them both tickets.

* * *

><p>"Ha har! That was an adventure if I ever did see one, Mike!" declared Foxy on their leaving. "Almost envious I couldn't be a part of it meself."<p>

"On whose side?" asked Mike with a laugh.

"Certainly no' with tha' fool Barbossa an' his scurvy lot!" he answered. "Mutinous ilk. He got what was comin' to 'im!"

"I thought you sounded like him when I first saw you," admitted Mike. "At least in how your voice sounds, you're better than he is."

"Aye, thanks lad. An' tha' Sparrah fella…" Foxy shook his head. "Not sure if the man's a complete fool or somethin' of a genius."

"Now, there's the thing," said Mike. "You sound like Barbossa, but I'd say you're more like Jack."

"I'll take tha' as a compliment, lad," chortled Foxy. "He'd certainly be a man I wouldn't mind venturin' with, jus' so long as I stay behind him with a hand on me cutlass."

"That's probably a good measure to take," Mike agreed. "Will Turner was decent though, right?"

"Aye, he was a fine one," nodded Foxy. "A noble pirate wi' a noble heart. I'd liken him to ye, Mike. Even that ye've found yerself a girl ta woo."

Mike laughed again. "Thanks, but I don't think so, Foxy. A woman would have to be out of her mind or out of this world to have any interest in me."

"Bu' wha' abou'…?" Foxy paused and shook his head. "Actually, maybe best keep tha' to meself."

"Keep what?" asked Mike. "What is it?"

"Nothin', lad." Foxy smiled slyly. "Jus' somethin' yer be'er off findin' out fer yerself. An' when ya do, ye can come ta me like Will did ta Jack, ya hear?"

"Um… okay." Mike had no idea what he was on about, but he put it aside. "Right, a couple more places I think you'd want to see. First place is on our way to the sea."

"Finally!" cheered Foxy. "Lead on then!"

The sounds of the waves against the shore became louder when Mike took them to their next destination. It was a pub called the Salty Clam, a place mainly for the sailors who'd stopped off in port and who had time for a quick drink before setting off again but not enough time to visit the marina.

It was fairly lively when Mike and Foxy entered. There were a fair few fishermen drinking heavily and a small group wearing the uniform of US marines. The man at the bar had a thick white beard and a friendly face. He smiled when Foxy and Mike approached the bar.

"New faces," he said. "Pull up a stool boys and make yourselves at home. I'm Arthur McAllister and whatever you need, let me know."

Mike ordered a soft drink and he could have easily guessed Foxy's request of rum. McAllister served them both swiftly and Foxy took a hearty swig. Though he once told Mike he couldn't get drunk, Mike could tell this was the first time he'd ever even had a rum because he coughed when the stuff went down his throat.

"Blow me down!" he cried. "Tha' kicks like a mule!"

"Be more careful with the next one," advised Mike and looked at the barman. "It's kind of his first one."

"I thought as much," nodded McAllister, looking at Foxy. "You seemed like you knew what you were drinking though."

"Suppose it's just been a while." On his next swig, it seemed Foxy was used to the drink for he swallowed with no problem. "A fine drink. Sits warmly in yer throat fer a while."

"It does that. What's your name, anyway?" asked McAllister. "You seem like you're here on some interesting business."

"Oh, me and him are just visiting," said Mike. "I'm Mike Schmidt and this is… um…"

"The name's Jack Gibbs," supplied Foxy quickly, holding out his hand. "Bu' me friends call me Foxy."

"Foxy, eh?" McAllister shook Foxy's hand. "How did you come to be called that?"

"Because I'm as cunnin' an' fas' as one," claimed Foxy.

"I see," chuckled McAllister. "So, what do you do, Foxy?"

"I'm cap'n-a the finest ship ta ever sail the seas!" proclaimed Foxy. "The Salty Sea Fox!"

"Um…" Mike beckoned to McAllister. "He's a kid's entertainer. You know, he acts like a pirate and he likes to um, stay in character."

"Or tha', if ya want ta take the fun out of it," grumbled Foxy.

"Good you take pride in your work," noted McAllister. "What does it involve then?"

"I regale tales-a me travels ta me lil' mateys," answered Foxy. "Let their young minds transport 'em ta places they'd only ever dreamed of. Would ya like ta hear one?"

McAllister glanced at Mike, who nodded encouragingly. Probably under the assumption it would help him stay in character and practice, the barman let Foxy go ahead. The fox man launched into a daring tale of adventure, this one featuring an encounter with a kraken, washing up on a desert island and a new quest to find treasure on that same island.

At first, it was just McAllister and Mike listening. But a young man with a group of the fishermen overheard and sat down to listen too. So did his crewmates and a few of the others, meaning that Foxy soon had a small audience. Now he had more ears lent to him, Foxy could really start to get into his tale.

Mike was amazed that all of these grown men were actually listening to the story. Maybe it was some nostalgic sense of childlike tales of the seas or that they were mostly drunk. Either way, Mike was glad that Foxy had this chance and he relished in it. He began to perform actions, running and fighting unseen foes with the enthusiasm of the children he entertained.

"Bu' as I emerged from the thicket-a trees," he said, "I happened across others comin' from a ship. Me heart soared at the thought-a rescue bu' I quickly took cover when I saw the flag they were wavin'!" He dived behind a table and peered over. "These were no fine, sea-farin' men bu' some-a the foulest of all creatures: slavers! Black hearted devils who see people as cargo ta be ferried off an' worked ta death! I saw here a chance fer escape an' a chance fer justice. No slaver escapes my gaze!"

An excited murmur went through the group and they leaned in to hear more. But Mike checked his watch and realised they'd have to be on their way soon and there was still one more thing he wanted to do with Foxy.

"Um, sorry folks," he said as loud as he could. "But I'm afraid that Captain Jack and I have to get going."

"Aw, what?" moaned the young man who'd garnered everyone's attention. "It was getting to a good part!"

"Now, come on Robbie," said an older man. "I won't deny that it was nice to hear the gentleman's story, but that's all it was. If he has business, we'd best let him go about it."

The young man, Robbie, sighed. "Yes, sir."

"Bu' Mike, why can't we stay a lil' longer?" asked Foxy. "Wha's wrong wi'-" He stopped when Mike whispered a reminder. "Bloomin' bilge rats, yer right! Me friend's right, I'm afraid, I'd best be on me way. Fair sailin' to ye, gents!"

Mike left money for their drinks and they rushed out of the door, Foxy waving cheerfully to his captive audience as he left.

"Sorry, lad," he said while they walked along. "I got rather caught up in all tha'. Never entertained a group-a adults wi' me stories before."

"They were in the right state for it," said Mike. "You did good, Foxy."

"Thanks, lad an' thank ye fer lettin' me, not ta mention lettin' me try some rum. Shame I can't feel most-a the effects," he added. "Ah well."

"That's why I got you this." Mike pulled Foxy's present out of his coat and he unwrapped it to reveal another bottle of rum. "This stuff's flavoured, so you can still enjoy the drink without needing to get drunk. Just make sure no one catches you with it, okay?"

"I'll stash it away in me chest," promised Foxy, putting it away in his coat. "Thank ye again, Mike."

They pressed on until they arrived at the docks proper. A few sea front warehouses ran all the way to the end and boats bobbed in the water, tied to their mooring. They walked along to the end of the pier where they could see the ocean. The rushing of the waves was in their ears now, coupled with gulls squawking overhead and the strong smell of fish and salt in their nostrils. The surface of the water was bathed in the moon and starlight, revealing its vast expanse.

Mike wasn't a big fan of the smell, but it was a nice view. Foxy, however, was completely dumbfounded at the sight. He stood there, staring out at the sea in silent awe, his mouth hung open and his eyes wide. He walked dumbly to the end of the pier, his footsteps heavy.

"Well, would ya look at tha'…" he whispered. "It's so… big."

"The world is big and the ocean makes up most of it," said Mike. "You've never seen it before?"

"Only in pictures and on maps bu'… it's nothin' like seein' it fer real," he murmured. He crouched and dipped his hand in the water. "Ooh, cold!" He tasted it. "An' salty too."

"What were you expecting?"

"Like I said, Mike… hearin' it don't hold a candle ta seein' it, hearin' it, tastin' it…" He turned and smiled warmly at Mike. "I say again, lad… yer too good ta this ol' sea dog."

"I was happy to do it." He stood next to Foxy and gazed out alongside him. "We can't hold onto the past forever, Foxy. We have to look towards the future."

"Aye an' ye've given me a brigh' future, Mike." He wrapped a long arm around Mike and squeezed. "I'm in yer debt, lad."

Mike smiled. "You don't owe me anything, Foxy."

"I feel like I do. Fergivin' me fer what I did, bringin' me back an' now this…" He stared out at the ocean again. "I'm never fergettin' this."

"It's great, isn't it?" They both turned to see the young man from the pub standing not far off. "You should try sailing on it sometime."

"I hope ta, someday," replied Foxy. "Ya got fine taste in stories, lad. Thanks fer havin' ye and yer friends listen ta me ramble on."

"It's fine. It reminded me of when I was a kid," he said. "I went to this kid's place and there was someone there who told stories just like you did. It made me want to go out to see myself, to have adventures like he did. I only went once because… well, something bad happened and we couldn't go again."

Mike looked at Foxy. He looked shocked at what he was saying and it even got the gears in Mike's head turning.

"But I never forgot him. I didn't think he was bad, even after that. I still wanted to go out to see myself someday and now, here I am. Living the dream." He looked at Foxy and laughed. "It's funny, really, Jack. You even sound a lot like him."

Mike's suspicions had only grown while he talked and then he remembered hearing what that older guy had called this man.

"What did you say your name was?" asked Mike.

"Oh, sorry. Guess it is kind of weird I followed you guys and didn't even introduce myself," he chuckled. "I'm Robert. Robert Letterman. Thanks for telling us your story."

Though he looked even more shocked than before, Foxy managed to find his voice. "It… it was me pleasure, R-Robbie."

"Thanks. Okay, I'd better be heading back or they'll wonder where I went. See you guys later," he said in farewell, hurrying away.

They watched him go until he was out of sight. Mike could hardly believe it and it looked like Foxy couldn't either. Tears were shimmering in his eyes. He screwed them shut and sat down on the pier.

"Hey." Mike sat next to him. "You okay?"

He was silent for a moment.

"Aye…" He nodded slowly. "Aye, I think so." Silence fell again. "Mike? Mind if… we stay fer a few more minutes?"

Mike put his arm around Foxy and patted his shoulder. "Sure thing, you old sea dog."

And so they sat, the gentle rushing of the waves the only sound between them.


	5. One Night With Freddy

**One Night With Freddy**

Mike's night with Foxy had certainly turned out a lot heavier than expected. Neither of them had expected to run into the man who had been the kid who'd witnessed '87, but it wasn't unwelcome. Foxy had been quiet all the way back and went straight to his cove after they returned, though not after giving Mike a firm hug and a warm smile.

Mike had felt good after that. It was good the fox man had been able to find a little more peace, especially around this time of year. No doubt the others would have noticed something too and he was right when Freddy brought up the subject upon meeting Mike outside.

"Foxy told us all about what happened when you went out. I've probably said it once and I'll say it again: you're a fine young man, Mike and we're indebted to know an upstanding and remarkable individual as you," he said warmly.

"Um…" Mike didn't really know what to say to that, other than the obvious. "Thanks, Freddy."

"You're welcome, Mr Schmidt. I mean every word, you hear?" He patted his shoulder, something that with the bear man's strength made Mike stagger a bit. "Oh, sorry son."

"It's fine," assured Mike. "Ready to go then?"

"I think so." He adjusted his hat and fixed his bowtie. Mike saw he also had a cane dangled on his arm. "How do I look, Mike?"

"Very sophisticated, Mr Fazbear," replied Mike. He nodded to the cane. "Where'd you get that from?"

"I've had it for a long while, actually," he answered, taking it in hand. "It was meant to be part of my act without the suit, to do a little song and dance. Since we got our suits, it's been gatherin' dust. I've been achin' for a chance to use it properly and this seemed a fine time to do so."

"I agree," said Mike. "It suits you."

"Thank you kindly, my boy." He glanced at Mike. "May I ask what's in the bag?"

Mike looked at the gift bag he held. "You'll see later."

"Very well, I won't pry." He twirled the cane and tapped it on the ground. "Now, time slips away from us and so we should slip away into the night with it. I take your leave, son."

With the bear's behest, Mike set off. He had a couple of ideas of what to do with Freddy and the first was a fifteen minute walk to a nearby café. As they walked, Mike noted Freddy staring around in a kind of mild curiosity.

"You know, it's kind of funny you chose to take Foxy down by those docks," said Freddy out of the blue. "Did you know the restaurant has an off-site storage space in one of those warehouses?"

"It does?" Freddy nodded. "How do you know that?"

"I heard Aaron talkin' about it one time," he replied. "It's where they store the old animatronics after we replaced them."

"Right," Mike nodded. "Why are you um, telling me this?"

"Just tryin' to make conversation, maybe teach you a little bit more about the restaurant." He smiled sadly. "You know how my mind wanders to strange things, Mike."

"Okay then." A moment of silence passed. "How does it feel to be outside?" he asked.

"It certainly is a lot larger than what I'm used to seein' every day," replied Freddy. "Shame. I thought there'd be more stars."

Mike looked up. "Light pollution. Sorry."

"It's not your fault, Mike. I'm still grateful to you for managing to persuade Aaron to do this for us." He inhaled deeply. "My, it's nippy out here."

"It can't be that bad for you," said Mike. "You've got more hair than me."

"That's a fair point," chuckled Freddy. "Oh well, the cold doesn't bother me too much anyway."

Mike managed to avoid making an obvious joke about that. Even if he did, Freddy probably wouldn't get it.

"It's rather nice too," Freddy went on, "to be movin' around without the confines of my suit. Of our suits. I reckon we'd have gotten a lot more attention if we'd decided to wear those."

"That could be another way to get you out of the restaurant," said Mike. "Go out wearing the suits and pretend you're promoting the restaurant or something like that."

"That's not a bad idea," agreed Freddy. "We could always do with a little more publicity."

"I think we're doing fine at the moment." A question occurred to Mike. "What's it like for you? Inside the suits, I mean?"

"Hmm." Freddy considered. "Well, the ones we have are mostly the same as any other mascot suit, like what they wear at that Disney land place. It just moves as we move. The only exception is a kind of electronic interface in the facial region that connects to our components in that area. When we blink, the suit blinks. When we move our mouths, the suit's mouth moves too. That make sense?"

"Yeah, I get it," said Mike slowly. "Is it… you know, uncomfortable?"

"Well, are bodies are made to react to extreme heat or cold," he went on. "Like human bodies, ours work best when maintainin' a kind of equilibrium of our internal systems. Homeostasis, I believe it's called in scientific terms. Some mild increases in heat and cold do bother us like they would you, but like you, it's just a bother rather than anythin' life threatenin'. We just try not to let it bother us. Only other thing is the facial interface can tickle after a bit."

Mike grinned a bit. "Tickle?"

"Well sure. All them electrical connections are like a bunch of ants crawlin' all over your face," explained Freddy. "Considerin' we're supposed to be laughin' and puttin' on a show, I suppose you could say that's a benefit."

"Maybe you should have some of the kids wear them," suggested Mike. "You might get a few more laughs for your jokes."

Freddy huffed. "Mike, are you sayin' that my humour fails to incite laughter in my audience? I seem to find they're very appreciative."

"Well, we'll soon see from where we're going." Mike nodded to their destination on the street corner. "The Silver Spoon café. Pretty nice little spot during the day, but I found out that on Thursday nights it hosts a different event."

Freddy examined the poster on the front door. "Open mic comedy club. A fine choice, Mike."

"I'm glad you think so." He held the door for him. "You go and get us a table, I'll get us some drinks."

"Why, thank you kindly, son," he said, walking in. "Coffee with cream and one sugar, if you don't mind."

Mike returned with their coffees and sat down with Freddy to watch the acts. They could put their names down and were given a maximum of two minutes for their routines. There were none that were especially remarkable, but they got a fair few laughs apiece. The one exception was this guy who told some really morbid jokes and who slinked off the stage when he realised he wasn't getting as much as a titter and more yells to leave.

Freddy was one of them who laughed appreciatively at every joke, except that guy's. Whenever one came off the stage, he would go up to their table, shake their hand and praise them for a job well done. Even with the morbid guy he left him with the advice to perhaps refine his humour into something more appealing.

It wasn't long before Freddy put his name down to have a go. Well, not his actual name. He had enough forethought to come up with an alias.

"Alright, put your hands together for Mr Frederick Fitzbar," announced the host.

A polite applause accompanied Freddy while he made his way up on stage. He tipped his hat around the room and smiled benignly.

"Thank you, thank you kindly everyone." He waited until the applause died down. "Well now, first off I'd like to dedicate this performance to my father. He was a roofer so dad, if you're up there…" He stared off and quite a few people laughed. Even Mike snorted. "At first, I didn't believe he stole from his other job as a crossin' man but all the signs were there. It was a strange thing, bein' raised by my father. He was schizophrenic but he was good people. I'm a paranoid schizophrenic myself but you know what they say…" He flinched as if someone had spoken in his ear. "But my father was great. Took me to the park one day and I was stood there wonderin' why a baseball appears bigger the closer it gets. And then it hit me. When we get home, he tells me I have a fixation on revenge." Freddy frowned darkly. "We'll see about that."

Mike was laughing properly now, along with everyone else. These were one liners. They shouldn't have been this funny. But Freddy's straight-faced, conversational tone, the way he kept them coming and his comedic timing and delivery really made it work.

"As for me, I've been around a fair few jobs and some unfair ones too. I used to be a mime, it's only now I can talk about it. I was a trapeze artist, but I was let go. I made clown shoes which was no small feet. Surprisingly, as an accountant, I was fired after only…" He counted on his fingers. "Seven minutes. I quit my job at the helium gas factory, I simply refuse to be spoken to in that tone. Quit my job as a pantomime horse too, while I was ahead. I was a clown car salesman, but the whole thing fell apart. Worked as a typewriter repairman in China. I didn't like the job, but I sure met lots of characters. I want to write a mystery novel… or do I? Now, if you don't mind, I have an Over-Actors Anonymous meetin' that starts in…" He looked at his wrist and an exaggerated look of shock came on his face. "Thank you, good night everybody."

He tipped his hat to everyone again while they applauded and shook a few hands on his way back to Mike's table.

"Freddy, I don't know how you did it, but you did," said Mike. "That was hilarious!"

"Thank you, Mike." He took a satisfactory sip of coffee. "Never told jokes for adults before, but it has been one of those things I've thought about. Just for fun. Glad it went down well."

"Me too," agreed Mike.

Freddy smiled around the room. "Nothin' quite as pleasin' to the ears as a room full of laughter, wouldn't you agree?"

"Depends on the laughter," replied Mike, recalling an unpleasant memory. "Like if it's because you went on a night out despite everything telling you otherwise, waking up with a killer hangover and staggering to your lecture only to realise when you get there someone's drawn in felt tip. On your face."

"Oh dear me."

"Yeah, not one of the best things."

Freddy nodded. "I suppose that's a fair point. What did they draw on your face then?"

"I'd um, rather not talk about it," mumbled Mike. "Let's just watch the rest of this and finish our coffees."

"I understand. Just don't bring that up around Bonnie, she won't stop askin' till she finds out," warned Freddy.

Mike noted the advice silently and returned his attention to the stage where a guy was doing a pretty poor ventriloquism act. They left about five minutes later once they'd finished their coffees and ventured back out into the cold night.

They'd just rounded the corner on their way to the next place Mike had in mind for Freddy's night when something happened. A dark shadow jumped out of an alley way. A man with stubble, a woollen hat held them up and pointed something sharp at them.

"F-Freeze, you two!" he cried. "D-Don't m-move or… I'll r-r-run you through!"

"Okay, okay," said Mike calmly, his heart pounding. "J-Just stay calm, it's okay."

"Yeah!" He waved the blade around. "N-Now gimme all your money! N-No funny business!"

"Right, okay." Mike reached into his pocket for his wallet. "Just take it e-easy."

But before he could, Freddy strode past him and stood between Mike and the mugger. The latter looked apprehensive at this and pointed his knife at Freddy.

"Freddy, what are you doing?" hissed Mike. "Don't!"

"H-Hey, what gives?!" he demanded. "I-I'm not joking, pal!"

"No. I gather not," said Freddy in a conversational tone. "You look like your shiverin' there, son. You cold?"

"Shut up!" he yelled. "What do you care?!"

"I do care, my boy," said Freddy sincerely. "You really look like you're shiverin' a lot and I think I'd be right in sayin' it's not just from the cold."

The mugger faltered. "What… what are you saying?"

"I'm sayin' that I don't think you want to do this," replied Freddy. "You don't look much like a killer or a thief to me, son. You don't want to kill anyone. Not really. Do you?"

"I… I…" The mugger's arm dropped a fraction, but raised again when Freddy took a step closer. "H-Hey! Get back!"

"Don't worry, son. I'm just going to take this away from you. Just so you're not hurtin' anyone, because I know you don't want to." Gently, very gently, Freddy took hold of the man's wrist. His fist opened and the knife fell into Freddy's other hand. "There we go. That's better, isn't it?"

The mugger didn't say anything. His shoulders slumped over and he hung his head shamefully. Then, in another astonishing move, Freddy pulled him into a hug. The would-be mugger clung to Freddy as a child would to a parent and Mike could have sworn he heard him crying.

"There you go, son. It's okay, let it all out," comforted Freddy. "It's all fine now, there you go." He pulled out and smiled at him. "Now, how about we start over. My name's Freddy and this is my good friend Michael Schmidt. What's your name, son?"

"J-Jim. Jim St-Sterling," he sniffed. Now Mike could see, the guy looked pretty young.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you Jim Sterling. Now then, Jim, what's driven a perfectly fine young man like you to such desperate actions?" asked Freddy kindly.

"I don't have any other choice!" he cried. "It's the only thing I have left to do! I can't do anything else, I'm no good at anything! I can't even do a stupid mugging right…"

"Be thankful of that and don't tell yourself things like that," he said. "I'm sure there's plenty of things you're good at. Now, what do you like doin'?"

"I…" Jim wiped away some tears. "I… I guess I… always liked cooking."

"A fine profession! I happen to know a very good chef myself. Now, how come you're not doin' that?" he asked.

Mike watched on in amazement as the boy told him how his dad had made him take a maths degree, which he was never any good at. He'd been down on his luck ever since and had just lost his last job. Mike could sympathise. Not too long ago, Mike was in the same position and it looked like Freddy's was going to come to Jim's rescue too.

"Well, you look like you could use a little help to me. Mike, would you mind givin' me a few bills?" asked Freddy.

"Huh? Oh yeah." Mike pulled out ten dollars and gave them to Freddy, who placed them in Jim's hand.

"There. Now, use that and go get yourself somethin' to eat, but make sure you leave a little. Don't spend it all at once," he advised. "Then, tomorrow, you go along to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria at one o clock and no sooner or later. You know where it is?"

"Um, yeah. It's that kid's restaurant on 3rd, right?"

"The same one," affirmed Freddy. "When you do, go upstairs and ask to see Mr Aaron Johnson. Tell them Mr Fitzbar sent you and he'll let you have a week's trial run in the kitchens. You make sure you show them just what you can do, you hear?"

"Y-Yeah. Yeah, I will!" Jim smiled and hugged Freddy again. "Thank you so much! I-I gotta go, I'm starved! Merry Christmas Mr Fitzbar and thank you!"

"And you too, Jim!" wished Freddy, tipping his hat to the boy as he ran off.

"Good luck! I work there, so I hope I see you around!" called Mike and looked at Freddy. "That was amazing, Freddy!"

"Just doin' what had to be done," he said humbly. "Never just accept things for what they are on the surface, my friend. There's almost always something deeper."

"If I didn't know that, I probably would have run the moment I saw you guys like the other guards," said Mike.

Freddy smiled. "If I recall rightly from what Bonnie told me, you _did_ run. And you fainted too. Seems it's only because of that you stayed in the first place."

"Yes, um probably not the best example," admitted Mike. "Uh, come on. I think you'll like this other place."

This other place was something that Mike knew Freddy would appreciate. Indeed in the following twenty minutes when they arrived, the bear man's eyes seemed to glow when he saw the town library. It stayed open late for a few reading groups that occupied it at this hour or for people who wandered in for a late night read.

Of course, they had to be quiet when they entered but Freddy didn't need words to convey what he was feeling. The brightest smile lit up his whole face and he looked like a kid in a candy store. Mike watched him wander towards the fiction section and began to look around for some reading material.

It was a little strange thinking that the last time he'd been here it was to look into restaurant and what it might be hiding. It was funny how things worked out. This time, the reading was much easier because Mike pulled down The Hobbit. The last movie was out soon and he wanted to read the book again.

He was very surprised to see that Freddy had somewhat similar tastes. He'd gathered up a few books on natural and national history, a world history and most surprisingly…

"All of the Harry Potter books?" whispered Mike. "Freddy, I had no idea."

"Now you do." Freddy set down the copy of Philosophers Stone. "That nice receptionist Susie left it on her desk one day and when I happened across it, I didn't put it down the whole night. Sadly, it wasn't fast enough to finish it and I had to return it the next day. I was happy to see her relieved she had it back, but I've since relished the chance of finishin' it properly."

"It looks like I made the right choice then." Mike opened the bag and gave Freddy his present. "I bought them to get you into it, but this just makes it easier."

Freddy beamed once more when he saw that Mike had got him the very books he'd just gathered.

"Michael, my boy, you are a wonder. And a joke book too?" He chuckled. "I'll have to peruse that in close detail. Thank you, son."

"My pleasure," said Mike. "You deserve it."

"Hm." Freddy's smile fell away. "There might be others more deservin'."

"Not to me. You're one of the best people I know, Freddy and I mean that," said Mike. "The others would agree too. You do your best for them, Fred. I know you do. Like you did for Jim there."

"I try to, Mike. I try to…" He stared into the middle distance, lost in thought.

"What happened with Foxy wasn't your fault," assured Mike. "It's fine now."

"That wasn't what I was…" He trailed off, then shook his head. "Ah, don't listen to me, Mike. Just ramblin' on, as usual."

"Freddy? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Mike. Don't you worry." He opened the book again. "Now, I do wonder what that fella Quirrell is up to. I have a feelin' he may not be all he seems either."

Mike nodded absently. He wanted to persist further, but it was clear that Freddy wasn't going to talk about whatever had been bothering him there. Still, Mike was concerned. Because, just for a moment there, Freddy looked a lot older.

* * *

><p>All of Freddy's jokes were taken from stand-up routines by the comedian Stewart Francis, they're not mine. If you like one liners, he's great and you should check him out. I felt it was the most fitting humour for Freddy.<p> 


	6. Nino y Chica

**Nino y Chica**

For some reason, Mike had found himself staring at his reflection in the mirror before heading out tonight. Could his neck-length black hair use a little combing? Did he need to give his little goatee a trim? Maybe he should wear something a little smarter? He told himself he was being stupid and headed out the door. Why was he so apprehensive about this?

Of course, he knew part of the reason why. The one he'd deliberately saved for last. The reason he'd convinced himself of was that because Chica was the most nervous about this, it was better for her to be the last one. If she heard about how much fun the others had on their nights, maybe she'd feel less apprehensive about her night.

But deep down, Mike knew he was the one being apprehensive here.

Out of all of the synthetics, Chica was the most… special. And that was saying something. She was so kind and sweet. Her gentle tone combined with her bright and cheery demeanour was always enough to bring a smile to Mike's face. She liked his art and she was always the first to ask if he was having problems. Her smile was a little ray of sunshine. The way she would get flustered and nervous was really cute…

He shook his head and banished those thoughts as best he could. Why was he thinking of her like that? They were just friends. They weren't… she wasn't even human. Something he seemed to forget easily. God, he was pathetic.

He managed to calm down when he arrived at the restaurant. But he felt his nerves acting up when Chica nervously shuffled out of the doors, fixing her new coat. He heard her murmuring to herself while she did.

"… just keep calm, you'll be with- Mike!" She jumped. "Oh, um… I-I, uh… hello."

"Hi, Chica." Mike cleared his throat. "Um, you okay?"

"Yes, yes fine," she replied quickly and turned around. "Are um, my tail feathers covered okay?"

"They're good," said Mike with a brief look. "And your hair feathers are fine too. You look great, by the way. I mean, in your hat and coat. They uh, suit you."

She smiled shyly. "Oh, um… thank you, Mike. You look great too. I mean, I often just see you in your uniform and uh… n-not saying you don't look good in your uniform, you do! I mean um, just that… oh dear…"

"It's okay. Thanks, Chica." He glanced down at his buttoned shirt, tattered jacket and worn jeans and shoes. "I don't exactly have a lot of smart clothes, so… sorry."

"Oh, don't apologise. I really mean it," she said sincerely. "You do look… great. Relaxed, really."

"Oh. Thanks." An awkward silence fell between them. "So um… shall we get going?"

"Oh yes, let's!" she agreed. She followed Mike out of the parking lot, then stopped suddenly. "Oh… oh my goodness."

"What's wrong?" Mike saw her shocked expression. "Are you okay? Chica?"

"I… I'm outside," she whispered. "I'm outside. I mean, I really am. I am outside. I am standing here. Outside. Of the restaurant. Oh my... I… I think I need a moment."

Mike hurried to her side and placed an arm around her, his awkwardness forgotten in a bid to comfort her. She looked like she was going to faint. Mike wasn't sure if she even could, but he didn't want to take the chance.

"Just take a few deep breaths," he urged gently. "Don't freak out, Chica, it's okay."

"It's okay, it's okay," she repeated. "Breathe, yes. Breathe." She breathed in deep a few times before she looked like she'd calmed down. "Right… that's better. Thank you, Mike."

"It's fine." He noticed he still had his arm around her and let go. "You uh, sure you're feeling better? If you need a little longer…"

"No, no, I'm fine. Although…" She blushed a little bit but her cheeks went pale blue instead of red. "Could you… would you mind i-if I… held onto you? While we walk, I mean. J-Just until I get used to it."

"Um… sure, if it helps." He stood while Chica shuffled up and took hold of his arm. "That, um okay?"

"Yes, thank you," she murmured. "Alright uh, whenever you're ready."

Mike dumbly started walking at a steady pace so that Chica didn't feel too rushed. He was a little surprised at how warm she felt. Or maybe that was just from how much his face was heating up. He couldn't deny it was rather nice, having her this close to him. She looked so much more at ease, peaceful even. It was so…

No, no. Stop that, he told himself. That's getting back into weird territory. She was just doing this so she wasn't overwhelmed by it all and he was letting her because she was his friend. Nothing else to it. Yeah, it felt nice because this was the sort of thing that couples… no, stop it. Why did he keep doing this?

"Mike? Hello? Is everything alright?"

"Huh?" He hadn't realised that Chica was talking to him. "S-Sorry, Chica. Just thinking. What did you say?"

She giggled a bit. "I was asking where you're taking me tonight."

"I'd… prefer to keep that a surprise," he answered.

"Oh Mike, please?" she begged. "I'd really like to know."

"I know, but I'm still not going to tell you."

"Pleeeeeeease?" She blinked her big violet eyes at him.

Mike almost let it slip. "S-Stop that, Chica. That's not going to work on me."

"Are you sure that there's nothing I can do to persuade you to tell me?" she asked.

"Hmm." Mike pretended to ponder. "Do you have one of your chocolate pizzas on you right now?"

"Mike!" she gasped. "You greedy boy!"

"But it looked so good!"

"You're not ever going to get to even taste it if you act like that to try and get one," she huffed.

"Why are you so cruel?" whined Mike.

"Because you're so impatient," she countered. "Now, hush. You'll get one someday. I promise."

"But what day? When?"

"I'm not going to tell you." She smiled sweetly at him. "I'd prefer to keep it a surprise."

Mike frowned at her. "For someone so sweet, you can be so evil."

"You know what they say about the quiet ones," she giggled.

Mike laughed too, thankful that things were more relaxed now and it was just like if he was talking to her in the kitchen again.

Their journey required another trip on the bus to the upper part of town. Like Foxy, Chica appeared startled by the sight of a bus but all she did was gain a tighter hold of Mike and kept quiet while he paid for their tickets. They sat in comfortable silence while Mike let Chica watch the buildings pass by.

They arrived fifteen minutes later and another couple of minutes bought them to their destination. A little Italian place Mike had spied one time when he'd first moved here. He'd always wanted to eat there, but didn't have the money for it. Now, he had that and a date too.

No, not a date, he told himself mentally. She's just your friend, stop doing that.

Chica looked curious about the place. When they actually stepped towards the doors and she saw all the people sitting at tables inside, she got nervous again.

"O-Oh my… all of those people…" She looked like she wanted to run. "M-Maybe this isn't s-such a good idea, Mike."

"Chica, it's fine, really." He cocked his head at her. "You're never this nervous around kids."

"That's because they're children!" she cried. "Children are my life, Mike and most of the ones we get are regulars anyway! But adults… I-I've never been great with adults! The p-parents always think th-there's something wrong with me wh-when I try a-and talk to them and I… I just freeze! B-Bonnie a-and the others always h-have to step in!"

"You seem to do fine with the cooks and other staff," reasoned Mike.

"Because I know them, Mike!" she countered. "I-I don't know a-a-any of those people in there! A-And there's so many! W-What if I say s-s-something st-stupid o-o-or do something stupid? W-What if they see my feathers?! What if they call me a freak?! I… I… I…"

She started to hyperventilate and her speech became more rapid. Again, Mike wasn't sure exactly what the effect would be but she didn't look good. Mike pulled her away from the door and into a hug.

"Chica, it's okay," he reassured her. "None of those people expect you to talk to them. They're all enjoying their own meals and their own company. They won't even take any notice of us. The only ones who will are the waiters and that's just to take our orders for meals and drinks. You can let me handle those and just sit quietly. If you really want to go somewhere different, we will but please. Give it a try? Give it a few minutes and you won't even know anyone else is even here."

Chica remained clinging to him. Her breathing started to become more even again. For a long while, she stayed in Mike's embrace. When she spoke again, it was in a very quiet voice.

"I'll do it."

"Are you sure?" He looked her in the eye. "We don't have to if you're not feeling great about it."

"I'm not, really," she admitted. "But you were kind enough to go out of your way and do this for me. For us. I-It wouldn't be right if I didn't try either. So… I will."

"Okay. But if you're still feeling like this, don't hesitate to say anything, okay?" She nodded and stayed close to Mike while he led the way into the restaurant.

He told the waiter he'd made the reservation under his name for a table for two. He took them to a candle-lit table next to a window. Mike waited until Chica was seated before he did. She was still rubbing her arm nervously.

"Madam, are you not uncomfortable?" asked the waiter. "Would you not prefer to remove your hat and coat?"

"Oh!" Chica flushed "I-I-I uh… well, um…"

"Uh, sir?" Mike beckoned the waiter to listen. "She'd feel better leaving them on. She gets cold really easily, even in a warm room. It's a… a condition she has. A coat and hat makes it better."

"Ah, I understand, sir." He handed them both menus. "I will return in a moment."

"Th-Thanks," murmured Chica. "S-Sorry, Mike. I'm… I'm being silly."

"No, you're not. I understand. Really, I do," he insisted. "I'm not great with meeting new people either."

"You seemed okay with me."

"Only because you were, somehow, even more nervous than I would have been," he said. "It kind of made it easier. Even then, I was still really worried."

She looked surprised. "You were?"

"I was. Remember how I complimented your dress? I was kicking myself for saying that it was really yellow." Mike resisted the urge to facepalm at the memory. "I was just relieved it went down okay and when we were left alone, I didn't really know what to say then either."

"Oh, I was so nervous when we were," she recalled. "But I think we both did well, once we got over it."

"I'm glad we did." They paused to order their drinks, both getting diet soda and looking at their menus. "What do you fancy then?"

"Um… I don't really know." She cast her eyes at the foods on offer. "These all look good. What do you recommend?"

"I suggest try some pasta. Since you're making pizza most of the time, I thought you'd might like to try the food its usually alongside with at most places," reasoned Mike. "I notice you don't have it on the menu at Freddy's."

"Aaron has talked about adding it." She looked for a few more moments. "I'll get bolognaise then. That sounds nice."

"And I'll be getting carbonara." Mike placed their orders and resumed talking. "So, did the others tell you about their nights?"

"Mmmhmm," she nodded. "I'm glad they all had such a wonderful time. It um, made me a little more excited about mine."

"That's good. I hoped that if I saved you for last, it would have that effect."

"That's sweet you'd think of me like that, Mike," she said sincerely. "I'm having a wonderful time so far. I mean, I'm with you. Of course I am."

"Thanks," he muttered. "I did say it'd be fine, didn't I?"

"You did," she agreed. "It really feels like it's just you and me here. I can just pretend there's no one else. And it's nice not having to cook for once."

"Did uh, Freddy tell you about that guy we came across?"

"He did. I went to find him while I was working today, you know. He came out to serve some of the pizzas," she explained. "I wished him luck and welcomed him to the family. He really appreciated that. I hope that poor boy manages to pick himself back up again, like you did."

"Me too," agreed Mike. A thought occurred to him. "You know, I meant to ask Freddy about something last night, but it slipped my mind. Can I ask you?"

"Of course you can. I'll try my best to answer."

"He kept using the name Fitzbar whenever he needed an alias. I mean, I could see where Foxy got Jack Gibbs from but I was curious about Freddy's," he explained.

"Well, it's no surprise there. It was our father's real name." She giggled again. "You didn't think that he came from a family called Fazbear, do you?"

"I did think that was a little weird," agreed Mike. "Why did he change it?"

"Well…" She spoke in a lower voice, checking no one was listening and beckoning for Mike to lean in. "From what I understand, it was to become closer to the project. Creating us, I mean. It was so we'd feel more like his children, I suppose."

"I get it." Mike smiled. "He must have really been an… interesting man."

"I wouldn't really know. He'd left when we were first brought online and we were left in Aaron's care. He told us stories about him, but…" She sighed and leaned back in her seat. "I wish we could have met him."

"Me too. Maybe you will someday," said Mike. "Maybe once he's done if this thing with Hawthorne is ended, he'll come and find you again."

"I hope so. I really do." She smiled across the table at Mike. "But it's not like we haven't known good people. All of the children we entertain. Aaron. Your father and of course, you."

Mike smiled back. "I'm happy to have met you guys too. You've really made a difference in my life and not just because I got a decent and stable job with good pay."

"That is one benefit," she agreed. "I don't know if I've said this before, but we'll always be here if you ever need us. You're part of our family now, Mike and don't ever forget it."

"I won't," he promised. "Thanks, Chica."

"You're welcome." She perked up a little. "Oh, our food's here! Mmm, that smells good."

They had a very enjoyable meal. The only hiccup was that Chica was a little inexperienced with eating spaghetti. At first, she frequently sprayed sauce over herself and made loud slurps when she sucked the pasta into her mouth. She was embarrassed at drawing attention, but Mike told her the best way to eat it and she enjoyed the rest of her food with far fewer problems.

It was rather cute watching her trying to suck in the spaghetti before it fell out of her mouth and watch her flick a bit of sauce onto her face. The stains became even more evident when her cheeks flushed bright blue, something she tried to hide from patrons who turned their heads curiously at her. Luckily, Mike was there to calm her down and it was even better seeing her grateful smile directed to him.

And there were those stupid thoughts again. He just tried to focus on his food, even though he kept glancing up at Chica. But it was just to see how she was doing, he told himself. No other reason.

They finished their meals, paid the bill and left the restaurant feeling full, relaxed and content. Chica took hold of his arm again, even though she appeared to be over her nerves and didn't need to hold on. But she didn't say anything and neither did Mike. It was kind of nice and he didn't want to make her feel like she was doing something wrong.

Mike didn't really have any other ideas for what to do. But both he and Chica were content to just wander around and talk. Mike was still learning about the nature of his synthetic friends and the atmosphere let him ask a few things he was curious about. The subject they'd arrived at was something else Mike was surprised to learn. It came from the question Mike asked if there were only ever the four of them. At this, Chica looked a little… reserved.

"Um… technically, no," she replied.

"How do you mean technically?" asked Mike.

"Uh… I… i-it's not something we talk about much…" she murmured. "I-I mean, it's n-not like I d-don't trust you, I do. Just…"

"I get it," said Mike. "You guys are pretty complex and you've already trusted me with a lot. If you don't want to tell me, I'll understand."

Chica bit her lip and fiddled with her fingers. "I'll… I'll tell you."

"Chica, you don't-"

"It's fine. You deserve to know. We've… kept enough secrets from you." She whispered urgently. "B-But you have to promise not to let this get back to Freddy. He's very sensitive about the topic a-and he wouldn't want to talk about it."

"It'll just be between us," promised Mike. "So… there are more than just four of you?"

"Sort of. I-It depends on how you look at it," she said unsurely.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean in that… she was never given a synthetic body," explained Chica. "She was… an artificial intelligence. The prototype you could say of our cognitive neural processors."

"So… your brains?"

"Exactly. Officially, she was named Genetic Operations Logistics Diagnostic ENgager."

Mike thought about that. "'Golden'?"

"Yes b-but we called her Goldie." She smiled a little. "Before we got our bodies, our brains had to be developed. As best I understand it, we were based off of four separate brain patterns and our neural pathways form individually over time. That was where she came in. While our minds were developing… she'd speak to us. Tell us what we needed to know and what would happen when we woke up. See, when the animatronics were still performing, she would um… control one of her choice and interact with the people using it. Kind of a test to set a general standard for how we'd interact when we were made active and to learn specific things that would apply to us and our roles in the restaurant. In that sense… she was a little like our teacher."

"I think I get it. What happened to her?" he asked.

Chica looked away. "If you don't mind, Mike… that's what I'd prefer not to talk about. I-I'm sorry, b-but… it's not easy."

"It's okay," he assured. "Thanks for trusting me with that much anyway."

Chica smiled in silent gratitude. Her eyes wandered around for a bit and settled on something.

"What's that over there?"

Mike followed her gaze. "That's the ice skating rink. I think they have it every year at winter time."

"It looks like fun." Her eyes turned to Mike. "Can we go and try? I mean, we don't have to but…"

"Sure we can," said Mike at once. "It's your night out, Chica. If you want to ice skate, we'll ice skate."

Chica's beaming smile was enough to tell Mike he'd made the right decision. Even though he'd never been ice skating in his life, what was the harm in trying?

There weren't many people there when they arrived but it was only open for about half an hour before it closed. The woman at the desk was fine letting Chica and Mike in, but she warned them of the time and they promised they wouldn't be too long.

Mike fixed on his skates and stepped onto the ice. He immediately wobbled and waved his arms trying to keep his balance. He managed to grab onto the sides just in time and his legs were left in a very awkward position. His blush was made even worse when he heard Chica's musical laughter at the spectacle.

"Having a little trouble there, Mike?" she teased, edging carefully along the sides.

"It's not exactly easy." He tried to let go, but started to wobble again and refrained. "See?"

"Oh, come on. It can't be that bad." She pointed at another man who was doing a lot better. "He's not having any trouble."

"Okay, you try it then," he challenged.

She laughed again and took another look at the man. Mike could tell she was studying what he was doing. She moved her blades back and forth along the ice, getting a feel of the grip with both boots. Once she'd done that, she pushed herself from the wall. She wobbled a bit at first, but managed to keep her balance. Then, as if she were merely taking a stroll, she began to move her skates in a gentle rhythm over the ice and glided across its surface.

She did a circuit around the rink, practically mirroring the other skater. She had a little slip on occasion, but she was otherwise perfect. She even did a little spin, her dress twirling around her in the momentum and skated back to Mike. She took a hold of the sides again and gave him a little smile.

"Like that you mean?" she asked. Mike only grumbled in response and she laughed again. "It's not that difficult. Come on, I'll show you. Take my hand." Both of them blushed a bit at having to do so. "Okay. Now, first get a feel for the grips on your skates. Get used to how it digs into the ice." Mike mimicked what she'd done before. "Good. Now, on three we'll push off together. One, two, thre- now, steady, I've got you." She helped balance Mike when he wobbled. "There you go. Now, just try and copy me. In and out, like you're taking a walk. In and out. In and out…"

Mike wasn't completely perfect, but with Chica's tutelage, he at least managed to skate around without falling on his ass. Except for one time when he'd gotten a little too confident in his abilities and lost his balance. The dull pain in his butt was only matched by how red his cheeks went at Chica's mirth at the spectacle.

They still managed to have a lot of fun on the ice. Mike was fine with his amateur level of skating while he watched Chica sail across the ice like she'd been doing it for years. He suspected her mechanical nature had something to do with how well she'd taken to it, but that didn't make it any less beautiful or graceful.

"Well, looks like we've found another possible career for you," said Mike when they had to go. "You could be a pro if you wanted."

"That's a nice thought, but I'm fine where I am," she replied. "I think I'll stick to the kitchen. This was fun though. Thank you for that, Mike."

"For letting you try or for the sight of me looking like an idiot?" They both laughed. "You're welcome, Chica." On their way out, Mike got out her gift in the form of a drawing. "I hope you don't mind. This is one I made for you. It's coloured this time."

"Of course I don't mind. I love your art." She unfolded the paper and gasped. "Oh, would you look at that?"

It was a drawing of all of the Freddy crew but as anthropomorphic cartoon animals. Freddy waved jovially at the front, a microphone in his other hand. Bonnie smirked cockily up at them, strumming her bass. Chica smiled demurely, holding her cupcake proudly. Foxy was at the far end, his mouth open in a hearty laugh and waving a cutlass.

He was going to buy her something, but Mike had felt a gift like this was better. Chica appeared to agree.

"Aww, Mike. It's a wonderful gift. Thank you. But who's this? Wait…" She pointed to the fifth character in the middle. A bold-looking grey wolf dressed in security guard attire and holding a flashlight. She started to smile wider. "Is this you?"

"Um, yeah." Mike smiled sheepishly. "I kind of wanted to be in it but… not out of place. S-So I figured, that uh… well, a wolf is loyal a-and protects his pack, so…"

"That's so adorable," she giggled. "Well, I think you'd make a fine wolf, Mike."

"Ugh, Bonnie isn't going to let me hear the end of this…" he muttered.

"It's your own fault," she reminded him, trying to suppress her laughter.

Then, she stopped. Chica suddenly blushed, her eyes fixed on something above Mike. He looked up and froze. There, hanging above the entrance arc to the rink, was something Mike never thought he'd be standing under and certainly not with a girl. A garland of mistletoe.

He looked back at Chica. Her cheeks were flushed like ice, but her violet eyes were shining brilliantly. She knew exactly what it meant. So did Mike. It looked like she was moving closer. Involuntarily, so was Mike. Every other thought had been frozen in his mind. There was just this.

He closed his eyes and leaned further forward. His lips puckered out. They brushed against something soft and warm. A second later, he realised exactly what he was doing and withdrew. At the same time, so did Chica. Their eyes snapped open and their cheeks were impossibly even more flushed.

Mike was the first to break the silence.

"Um… th-that was j-just because of t-tradition, r-right?"

"O-Of course," she stammered. "N-Nothing else."

"G-Good. I-I mean um… well…"

"Y-Yes, um…"

"Y-Yeah…" He looked away and rubbed the back of his head. "You… want to get going?"

"Sounds good," she said quickly. "Yes, let's… go…" She re-joined him at his side.

She went to take his arm again, but her hand fell at her side and she looked off to the side. Was it Mike's imagination or did she look and sound almost… disappointed?

But he was surprised again when he felt her lips brush against his cheek. He looked to see that bright smile he really liked to see and she hugged him again. When she spoke, her voice was as gentle and soft as a snowflake falling on his face.

"I had a wonderful time, Mike. Thank you."

Mike didn't say anything. He returned her hug and took pride in making her happy, rather than linger too long on the conflicting thoughts and feelings creeping their way into his mind.

* * *

><p>Just one more, short epilogue chapter to go.<p> 


	7. One Last Surprise

**One More Surprise**

"Hey Mike!" Susie greeted happily. "Last day working here before we close up for the season! Can you believe it?"

"It's not that bad, Susie," said Mike. "We'll be open again after New Year's."

"I know, but still…" She looked around sadly. "I'm really gonna miss this place until then."

Mike nodded. "I know the feeling. Well, I need to see the boss again. Have a great Christmas, Susie."

"You too, Mike!" she wished. "And make sure you say goodbye to the gang tonight!"

Hopefully, I won't need to, Mike thought. Before he attended to that little matter, he went into the dining room. The band had just finished a rendition of Santa Clause Is Coming To Town with enthusiastic applause and were setting down their instruments to interact with the audience. Mike's appearance didn't go unnoticed.

"Well hey, if it isn't our good buddy Mike!" Freddy strode up and shook his hand. Oddly, his body was sparkling. "Glad you managed to drop by!"

Mike could see the children's amazed expressions out of the corner of his eye. The fact that he was on special terms with their favourite characters was a source of awe and envy for them.

"Thanks, Freddy. Have the kids been good?" he asked.

"As gold! Except for little Georgie over there," he said, pointing to the boy in question. "He filled my Santa hat with glitter and now it's all over me!"

"It wasn't my fault!" the boy cried. "Foxy told me to do it!"

"Mutiny, lad!" accused Foxy, popping out from his curtain. "How could ya betray yer captain like tha'?"

"I'm only joking, Georgie. No harm done," assured Freddy. "I'm sure that Santa won't count it as bein' naughty." The boy looked relieved. "Foxy on the other hand…"

"Hey, I'm a pirate!" protested the fox. "I'm supposed ta be naughty!"

"And that, kids," said Bonnie, "is why you shouldn't let yourself be labelled or you end up like Foxy: on the naughty list all year round and with enough coal to fill his head with more hot air than he already has."

A few kids laughed at her remark while Foxy grumbled.

"Oh, don't feel bad, Foxy," comforted Chica. "We all still love you, right children?"

A good majority nodded and cheered in agreement.

"That's up for debate on my part!" put in Bonnie.

Freddy chuckled. "Hey kids, why don't we all get a big photo together?" Mike started to back off while the kids crowded around the gang until he felt someone gently pushing him to the centre.

"He did say together," whispered Chica in his ear.

Mike felt a smile tug at his lips and he let it come onto his face as the camera flashed. The kids then broke up and ran around to play with Freddy and his friends. Mike began to take his leave but not before something tugged at his trouser leg.

He looked down to see Mr Johnson's youngest daughter with a drawing for him. "Merry Christmas, Mr Michael."

"Thanks, Annie." He took the crude drawing of him and placed it in his pocket. "Merry Christmas to you too."

She beamed and scampered off to Chica, who knelt down and caught her in a hug. She looked at Mike over her shoulder and even though she had her mask on, Mike could tell she was smiling. He waved to her and went to go about the reason he came.

He climbed the stairs to Mr Johnson's office and offered Mel another polite smile. Once again, she ignored him. He knocked on the door and his boss let him in, allowing him a seat.

"Top job, lad, top job indeed," he said at once. "From what I've heard, your little excursions with the band were very well received."

"I'm glad they were, sir," said Mike sincerely. "I was happy to do it."

"Looking back on it, so am I." He smiled proudly. "You've given a lot to this restaurant, Mike. We're all very grateful for all the work you've done."

"It was my pleasure, sir. This place has given me a lot too. I want to make sure I give as much as I get."

"Bang on," he chuckled. "Well, I suppose this'll be goodbye until we're back at work in the New Year. Hope you have a good Christmas, Mike."

"Actually, sir…" Mike leaned forward in his chair. "That was something I wanted to talk to you about. I wonder if you couldn't do me one more favour…"

* * *

><p>Mike had made sure to bring his CD player to work that night. No sooner had he locked the doors, Freddy and the others appeared and pulled him inside for one last night of fun.<p>

He plugged in the CD player and a very excited Bonnie inserted her mix CD. Moments later, she was dancing to Pat Benatar's Hit Me With Your Best Shot. Before long, they all were while the CD played through its selection.

Foxy danced a little pirate jig. Freddy showed himself to be adept at a form of tap dancing, complete with his cane. Bonnie was head banging with air guitar and real guitar and singing along when she could. Mike's dancing left something to be desired and Bonnie remarked he looked like he was wading through waist deep water while swatting off bees.

Chica ended up saving him there. At first, she danced alone as graceful and fluid as she had been on the ice. With the exception when her clumsiness came through and she'd bump her hip on a table or totter and almost fall on her heels. But she ended up dancing with Mike. The look on her face made it hard to say no. It was nothing really special, just a few twirls but it was still fun.

To wind down afterward, Freddy read to them from his new books. He'd finished the first one and had moved onto the second. He proved to be a very good storyteller, affecting different voices for each of the characters and providing the right inflections and proclamations for his reading. The readings from his joke book were a little hit and miss. Bonnie ended up walking out on it but that didn't stop him.

Chica showed them the drawing Mike had done for her. Mike had, of course, been correct about Bonnie teasing him about the fact he'd inserted himself into the group.

"I think you're more like a doggy," she smirked. "Hold on, I think I have some treats here for you."

Mike didn't say anything, but he smiled when Chica laughed. Despite what ended up happening on their night, Mike didn't want his feelings on the matter to spoil it. From the look of it, neither did she. It had just been because they'd had to. She'd understood, of course she did.

After finding some cups, Foxy got out the flavoured fruit rum to share around. They clinked their cups together and drank. Reactions were mixed.

"Hmm." Freddy licked it on his mouth. "Sweet, yet it still had a bit of a kick."

"Yeah, not bad," agreed Bonnie. "The vanilla flavour is pretty nice."

Chica ended up coughing the instant it touched her throat and Bonnie had to slap her hard a couple of times.

"G-Goodness!" she hacked. "It's… different."

"Yeah, not really my thing," said Mike, shuddering after drinking his. "I've never been big on alcohol anyway."

"More fer me then!" Foxy snagged their cups and chugged it down. "Aye, that's a fine drink!"

"You just be sure to keep that hidden or Aaron'll be after our blood. Or liquefied energy fluid if you want to be technical," said Freddy.

"Don't ye be worryin', Freddy. He won't see this." Foxy shook his head. "I'm still havin' trouble graspin' that this be yer las' nigh' here until after Christmas, lad."

"Me neither," said Chica sadly. "We're really going to miss you."

"Speak for yourself." Bonnie looked away, but smiled sincerely. "Just kidding. It's not gonna be the same without you around, Mikey."

"But we sincerely hope you have yourself a wonderful holiday and a very merry Christmas," wished Freddy warmly. "We're just sorry we won't be able to join you."

"Yeah, about that." Mike leaned back and cupped the back of his head in his hands. "You see, me and Mr Johnson had a talk. We decided that even at Christmas, it's better if a security guard remains present in the building. We wouldn't want anyone to try and make off with everyone's beloved characters. Then what would we do?"

Chica gasped. "Does that mean…?"

"Yep," nodded Mike. "You guys are stuck with me for the holidays."

"Aw, come on! Just when I thought we'd finally gotten rid of you!" Bonnie came around and grabbed him in a headlock. "You just can't keep away from us, can you?"

"That's grand news, laddie!" Foxy roared, wrapping an arm around him too. "I'll drink ta that!" And he did.

"It's so nice that you can!" squealed Chica excitedly. "In that case, I may have a treat for yoooou. I'll just need to make sure I have enough chocolate."

"We're happy you can join us, Mike. Are you sure this is okay?" asked Freddy.

"Believe me, Fred, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," answered Mike. "Now, who wants to play our little game?"

* * *

><p>Aaaaand that's the end of the show. I hope you guys enjoyed this little Christmas gift from me to you. Now again, I still have bigger projects and later I have my exams to revise for but keep your eyes open. I may just return to this again in future.<p>

Have a merry Christmas and a happy new year. If you don't celebrate Christmas, have a great holiday anyway.

Be strong, be swift, be just.


End file.
